UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
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ITALY   AND    FRANCE 

m  THE 

SIXTEENTH    CENTURY: 

OB, 

ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA   AT   BARLETTA. 


ETTORE     FIERAMOSCA 


THE  CHALLENGE  OF  BARLETTA. 


THE   STRUGGLES  OF  AN  ITALIAN 


FOREIGN  INVADERS  AND  FOREIGN  PROTECTORS. 


BY    MASSIMO    D'AZEGLIO. 


BOSTON: 
PHILLIPS,  SAMPSON  AND   COMPANY. 

M  DCCCLIX. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859,  by 

PHILLIPS,   SAMPSON,  AND   COMPANY, 

in  the   Clerk's  ofBce  of  the  District   Court  of  the  District  of 

Massachusetts. 


BrVERSIBE,  CAMBBIBQB  : 

STBRBOTTPED    AND    PRINTED   BT 

H.   0.   HOOaHTON   AND   COMPANT. 


-fa 


TO 

THOSE    TRUE    AMERICANS 

WHO  THINK  JUSTIFY  OF  ITALIAN  VIRTUE,  WHO, 

ALIVE    TO     ITALIAN     MISFORTUNES,     DO     NOT     EXPECT 

ITALLAN     SOCIAL    REGENERATION    FROM     BLOOD,     STILETFO,     OR 

CONSPIRACY,     BUT     FROM     ORDER,     LAW,     MUTUAL 

RESPECT,  AND    FROM     THE    REVIVAL    OF 

ITALIAN  WISDOM,   AND   OF 

ITALIAN  VALOR. 


r.sooso 


PREFACE. 


Most  opportunely  at  the  present  time,  when  a  strug- 
gle for  national  independence  is  going  on  in  Europe,  I 
oflfer  this  work  to  the  friends  of  Italy  in  America. 

Depending  on  their  kind  feelings  towards  Italy,  I  ven- 
ture this  translation,  notwithstanding  the  many  defects 
which  must  natui-ally  follow  my  employing  a  language 
with  which  I  was  totally  unacquainted  until  I  had 
reached  manhood. 

I  have  an  opinion  of  my  own  about  Napoleon  III. 
I  think  him  honest.  He  means,  I  believe,  to  do  good 
to  Italy.  The  fact  of  his  upholding  the  government  of 
Piedmont  gives  rise  to  misgivings  in  the  minds  of 
many.  Perhaps  there  is  some  reason  for  this.  But 
exitus  acta  probat. 

However,   if  Italy  should   succeed   in  asserting   her 
rights,  with  the  help  of  France,  will  she  continue 
A  servir  sempre  vincitrice  o  vinta  f 


vi  PREFACE. 

The  true  and  hopeful  answer  to  this  question  depends 
only  on  the  moderation  and  sincerity  of  the  ItaUans 
themselves. 

The  lessons  of  1821,  '31,  and  '48  ought,  by  this  time, 
to  have  supplied  a  code  of  practical  national  principles 
to  aU  parties  in  the  Peninsula. 

Will  the  Italians  profit  by  those  lessons  ? 

This  is  the  fear  of  all  sincere  well-wishers  to  Italy. 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 


CHAPTEE  I. 


On  the  evening  of  a  charming  day  of  April,  A.  D.  1503, 
the  bell  of  the  tower  of  San  Domenico,  in  Barletta,  gave 
the  signal  for  the  Angelus.  Following  the  custom  of  the 
peaceful  inhabitants  of  villages,  especially  at  the  south  of 
Italy,  the  people  had  assembled  towards  night  on  the 
square  near  the  sea,  to  exchange  friendly  words,  and  in 
the  cool  breeze,  and  under  the  serene  sky,  enjoy  some 
rest  after  the  labors  of  the  day.  Groups  of  soldiers, 
Spanish  and  Italians,  had  resorted  there  with  the  villa- 
gers, for  the  same  purpose;  some  were  strolling  about 
the  place,  and  some  were  standing ;  others  sitting  on,  or 
leaning  against  the  boats  which  had  been  drawn  up  in 
a  line  along  the  beach.  Like  soldiers  of  all  nations  and 
of  every  age,  their  manners  were  such  as  to  say, 
"  Avaunt !  the  land  is  ours ! "  Indeed  the  villagers, 
leaving  the  best  of  the  place  to  them,  kept  aloof,  there- 
by tacitly  encouraging  the  soldiers'  arrogance.  If  the 
reader,  to  form  in  his  own  mind  a  picture  of  the  scene 
before  us,  represented  to  himself  a  gathering  of  the  sol- 
diers of  our  own  times,  in  their  unmeaning  uniform,  he 


8  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

would  be  very  far  from  having  a  correct  idea  of  it. 
Gonzalo's  army,  the  infantry  especially,  albeit  they  were 
clad  better  than  any  other,  and  decidedly  the  best  corps 
in  Christendom,  had  no  knowledge  whatever,  no  more 
than  any  other  troops  of  the  sixteenth  century,  of  that 
severe  modern  discipline  which  has  gone  so  far  in  mak- 
ing the  soldiers  look  like  one  another  from  head  to  foot. 
At  that  time  any  man  who  entered  the  army,  either  on 
foot  or  with  horse,  was  at  perfect  liberty  to  dress,  arm,  or 
equip  himself  as  he  pleased.  Hence  it  was  easy  to  know 
the  nationality  of  every  soldier,  so  striking  were  the 
variety  and  characteristics  of  fashions,  colors,  and  bear- 
ing, which  distinguished  every  man  in  that  crowd.  The 
Spaniards  were  in  general  serious,  immovable,  with  an  air 
of  defiance,  wrapped  (or,  as  they  say,  embozados)  in  the 
national  mantle  (capo),  from  under  which  protruded  the 
long  and  slender  Toledo  blade ;  the  Italians,  gaiTulous, 
animated  in  their  gestures,  in  close  jackets,  and  the  pistol- 
ese  dagger  hanging  across  their  backs. 

At  the  first  sound  of  the  bell  the  noise  instantly  ceased, 
and  all  heads  were  uncovered,  because,  in  those  times, 
even  soldiers  had  faith,  and  really  said  their  prayers. 
After  a  brief  interval  the  hats  were  replaced,  and  the 
hum  of  voices  began  again.  At  first,  and  from  a  dis- 
tance, the  crowd  appeared  to  be  gay  and  lively  ;  however, 
had  you  mingled  with  them,  you  would  have  easily  found 
that  there  was  a  common  reason  to  be  uneasy  and  low- 
spirited  ;  and  the  mind  as  well  as  the  conversation  were 
engrossed  by  matters  of  distress.  Truly  there  was  co- 
gent reason  for  it.  The  famine  was  beginning  to  be  felt 
already  amongst  the  troops  and  the  inhabitants  of  Bar- 
letta.  The  noble  Captain  waiting  for  the  tardy  reinforce- 
ments expected  from  Spain,  kept  his  bands  within  the 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  9 

walls  of  that  town,  not  willing  to  commit  the  success  of 
the  war  to  the  chances  of  one  day,  when  his  men  were 
so  much  inferior  in  number  to  the  French. 

The  square  was  skirted  on  three  sides  by  the  poor 
dwellings  of  seafaring  men,  by  the  tavern,  and  by  the 
church.  The  other  side  was  open,  looking  over  the  sea, 
and  incumbered,  as  is  usual  in  such  places,  with  boats, 
nets,  and  other  implements  proper  for  the  trade.  On  the 
far-oiF  horizon  the  tall  and  dark  form  of  Mount  Gargano 
emerged  from  the  waters,  with  its  crest  illumined  by  the 
level  beams  of  the  setting  sun. 

In  the  intervening  space  a  vessel  was  trying  to  make 
headway ;  she  tacked  continually  over  the  becalmed 
waters,  endeavoring  to  catch  the  slightest  wind,  which 
now  and  then  breathed  over  the  gulf,  and  rippled  the 
waters  here  and  there  with  long  curling  waves.  The 
distance  from  the  shore,  and  the  faint  evening  light  did 
not  enable  the  men  in  Barletta  to  recognize  her  colors. 

A  Spaniard,  standing  near  the  shore  with  the  rest  of 
the  soldiers,  gazed  at  the  boat,  straining  his  eyes,  and 
twisting  a  pair  of  very  long  mustachios,  rather  gray  than 
black. 

"  What  are  ye  looking  at,  there,  like  a  statue,  and  not 
even  deigning  to  answer  a  question  ?  " 

This  was  the  apostrophe  of  a  Neapolitan  soldier  who 
felt  offended  because  the  Spaniard  had  not  answered  him 
before,  but  still  his  comrade  did  not  seem  moved,  not  in 
the  least.  At  last  he  gave  a  groan,  which  sounded  more 
like  the  wind  from  a  pair  of  bellows,  than  the  breathing 
of  a  man,  and  said :  — 

"  Voto  a  Dios,  que  Nuestra  Senora  de  Gaeta,  who 
sends  good  wind  and  grants  speedy  journey  to  so  many 
who  pray  to  her  on  the  sea,  might  as  well  hurry  that  ship 


10  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

on  to  us,  who  pray  to  her  from  the  land,  and  who  have 
nothing  else  to  put  between  our  teeth,  unless  it  is  the  butt 
of  an  arquebuse  !  Perhaps  there  is  a  cargo  of  grain  and 
provisions  for  those  excommunicated  French,  who  have 
caged  us  up  here  to  die  of  hunger.  .  .  .  Tmala  Pasqua 
me  de  Dios,  y  sea  la  primera  que  viniere,  si  su  Gracia  el 
Senor  Gonzalo  Hernandez*  after  he  has  taken  a  good 
dinner  and  a  better  supper,  cares  for  us  more  than  for 
the  cuero  de  sus  zapatos."  f 

"  What  can  Gonzalo  do  ?  "  the  Neapolitan  retorted, 
with  great  pertness,  only  for  the  sake  of  contradicting ; 
"  has  he  to  turn  himself  into  bread  to  enter  thy  belly  ? 
He  will  give  it  when  he  has  it ;  and,  now  tell  me,  who 
has  swallowed  up  the  ship,  which  an  evil  luck  drove  over 
the  shoals  of  Manfredonia,  Gonzalo,  or  yourselves  ?  " 

The  Spaniard,  slightly  changing  his  countenance, 
seemed  disposed  to  resent,  but  just  then  another  stepped 
in,  who,  slapping  him  on  the  shoulder,  shaking  his  head, 
and  lowering  his  voice  so  as  to  give  more  weight  to  his 
words,  said: — 

"  Remember,  Nuiio,  that  when,  in  order  to  obtain  the 
pay,  that  unlucky  game  was  played  in  Taranto,  your  pike 
was  only  three  inches  from  Gonzalo's  breast,  .  .  . 
and  if  ever  your  neck  was  near  to  be  wedded  to  the 
rope,  it  was  then.  .  .  .  Do  you  remember  the  yell  we 
raised  ?  it  might  have  frightened  a  lion.  Is  yon  tower 
moving  now  ?  "  and  he  pointed  to  the  great  spire  tower- 
ing above  all  the  house-tops  ;  "just  as  much  was  Gonzalo 
moved,  and  so  very  cool.  .  .  .  I  see  him  even  now. 
....    He  warded  the  blow  off  with   that  hairy  hand 

*  And  may  God  send  me  a  bad  Easter,  and  let  it  be  the  next  one,  if 
his  Grace,  my  lord  Gonzalo  Hernandez, 
t  Sole  of  his  shoes. 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  11 

of  his,  and  said,  '  Mira  que  sin  querer  no  me  hieras.' "  * 
The  dark  face  of  the  old  soldier  became  even  a  shade 
darker,  and  to  stop  a  conversation  which  did  not  please 
him  much,  cut  off  short,  saying  : — 

"  What  do  I  care  for  Taranto,  the  pike,  or  Gonzalo  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  care  ?  "  rejoined  the  first  speaker  with  a 
smile,  "if  you  mind  Ruy  Perez  and  wish  to  keep  the 
way  clear  for  bread,  when  Dios  fuere  servido  to  send  us 
some,  better  not  to  talk  so  loud,  lest  Gonzalo  should  hear, 
and  think  of  Taranto.  ...  A  half  word  is  scarcely 
anything,  as  we  Italians  say,  but  a  whole  one  is  often  too 
much  ;  and  man  forewarned  is  forearmed." 

Nuno  answered  with  a  grumbling,  as  if  he  did  not 
mind  what  he  was  saying ;  the  warning,  however,  made 
him  think  in  spite  of  himself;  he  looked  around  with  an 
eye  of  distrust,  as  if  he  wanted  to  be  assured  that  it 
entered  no  one's  head  to  report  his  words.  Fortunately 
he  saw  no  cause  of  fear. 

Meanwhile  the  square  was  almost  deserted ;  the  clock 
struck  the  hour  of  one ;  f  and  our  friends,  like  the  rest, 
parted  company  and  disappeared  through  the  narrow  and 
dark  streets  of  the  town. 

Ruy  Perez  remarked,  as  he  went  along :  "  Diego  Gar- 
cia will  arrive  this  evening,  the  good  lances  of  his  squad 
must  have  met  with  good  hunting  in  the  country,  and,  may 
be,  we  will  have  a  dinner  to-morrow,  much  better  than 
the  supper  of  to-night." 

The  thoughts  awakened  by  this  hopeful  suggestion 
put  an  end  to  all  talk,  and  they  moved  silently  towards 
their  quarters. 

While   this   conversation  was  carried   on,  the  vessel, 

*  Take  care,  lest  thou  should'st  unintentionally  wound  ine, 
t  One  hour  after  sundown. 


12  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

which  at  first  appeared  to  steer  on  her  course,  had  slowly- 
approached  the  land.  A  small  boat  was  lowered,  two 
men  jumped  in  it,  and  rowed  very  swiftly  towards  the 
beach  ;  as  soon  as  they  had  got  oiF,  the  vessel  set  all 
sails,  headed  for  the  sea,  and  was  seen  no  more.  The  little 
boat  came  up  at  the  remotest  part  of  the  strand,  and  the 
travellers  landed.  The  first  of  them,  perceiving  no  per- 
son around,  halted  to  wait  for  his  companion  who  tarried 
to  pick  up  a  valise  and  a  few  other  articles,  and  pulled 
the  boat  up  at  the  extremity  of  a  small  pier  which  was 
used  for  the  purpose  of  a  landing  from  large  vessels. 
Having  fastened  the  boat,  he  rejoined  his  companion, 
who,  from  his  appearance  and  an  air  of  haughty 
superiority,  seemed  to  be  of  a  different  condition,  and 
who,  as  if  in  conclusion  of  a  conversation  held  during 
the  passage,  said  to  him :  "  Then,  Miguel,  it  is  time  to  be 
on  the  qui  vive ;  thou  knowest  who  I  am,  I'll  say  no 
more  ! " 

Miguel  understood  very  well  the  meaning  of  those 
few  syllables ;  he  bowed  in  assent,  and  they  walked 
towards  the  tavern. 

In  front  of  the  tavern  there  was  a  kind  of  verandah, 
supported  by  six  slender  pillars,  built  of  rough  bricks, 
and  under  it  a  row  of  tables  for  the  accommodation  of 
customers.  Mine  host's  name  was  Baccio  da  Rieti,  but 
he  was  nicknamed  Venom,  from  certain  suspicions  enter- 
tained by  the  people  in  his  regard.  This  man  had  caused 
a  huge  picture  of  the  Sun  to  be  painted  in  glaring  red 
between  the  windows ;  the  painter,  in  accordance  with 
certain  notions  of  astronomy  not  yet  obsolete,  had  given 
to  it  eyes,  nose,  and  mouth,  with  rays  of  gold  encircling 
the  whole  figure,  and  ending  in  the  shape  of  swallow- 
tails, which  made  it  visible  at  a  mile's  distance  in  day- 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  13 

time.  The  hou?*e  was  a  two-story  building.  A  large 
room  below  was  used  for  the  purpose  of  both  kitchen  and 
dining-hall.  Wooden  steps  led  to  the  rooms  above,  where 
the  host  lived  with  his  family,  and  where  he  lodged  any 
traveller  whom  an  evil  star  might  have  led  to  spend 
there  a  wretched  night.  It  was  then  the  general  custom 
throughout  Italy  to  sup  at  the  twenty-third  hour  ;  *  hence 
only  a  few  soldiers  or  some  inferior  officei's  were  at  that 
hour  sitting  at  the  door  enjoying  the  cool  breeze.  They 
belonged  to  the  troops  of  Signor  Prospero  Colonna, 
who  then  followed  the  arms  of  Spain,  and  were  all 
stout-hearted  young  men,  who  were  in  the  habit  of  re- 
sorting hither  with  the  other  brave  men  of  the  army. 
The  host,  who  knew  his  business  to  perfection,  kept 
wine  and  cards  always  ready  at  their  call ;  and  as  he 
was  a  jovial  man,  and  full  of  fun,  he  had  a  pleasant 
word  for  every  one, — and  by  this  way  he  squeezed  money 
out  of  all  hands.  At  that  very  moment,  Venom  was 
standing  on  the  door,  fanning  himself  with  his  cap,  and 
his  apron  tucked  up  on  one  side  ;  words,  jests,  and  loud 
laughing  showed  the  good  humor  of  the  company,  who 
were  in  an  uproar  of  merriment. 

The  two  strangers  were  approaching,  and  to  avoid 
being  noticed,  they  walked  on  leisurely,  occasionally 
stopping  and  conversing  between  themselves.  As  they 
reached  the  door,  and  their  jDcrsons  were  illumined  by 
the  glare  from  the  fireplace,  they  did  not  appear  different 
in  their  dress  from  the  others  present.  The  company 
scarcely  paid  any  attention  to  them  ;  but  one  of  them 
who  sat  at  a  distance,  and,  being  in  the  dark,  could  bet- 
ter discern  the  new-comers,  could   not  help  exclaiming, 

*  Until  witliiii  a  few  years  it  was  the  custom  in  Italy  to  reckon  the 
day  from  sundown  to  sundown. 


14  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

"  oh  1 "  with  an  expression  of  great  wonder,  and  in  the 
act  of  half  rising,  he  added — "  the  Duke  ! .  .  .  ."  The  tone 
in  which  these  words  was  uttered  showed  that  there  was 
a  name  to  follow ;  but  a  quick  look  from  the  man  who 
was  entering  had  worked  like  a  spell,  and  rammed  the 
word  back  in  the  soldier's  throat.  Nobody  noticed  his 
embarrassment,  only  one  of  his  comrades  sitting  by  him, 
remarked : — 

"  Boscherino  ! — what  are  you  dreaming  about  ?  A 
duke  ?  I  did  not  see  you  drinking  much  to-day  !  Is 
this  the  place  for  a  duke  ?  " 

Boscherino  felt  relieved  at  not  being  believed,  and  at 
being  taken  even  for  a  fool  or  a  drunkard ;  he  said  no 
more,  turned  to  another  subject,  and  went  on  as  merrily 
as  before. 

Venom  propelled  his  obese  and  greasy  person  towards 
the  strangers,  who  had  just  entered  the  tavern.  His 
countenance  was  of  olive  color,  furnished  with  a  beard  ; 
and  a  malicious  mien,  in  which  the  nature  of  both  the 
hypocrite  and  the  assassin  were  transparent.  With 
great  self-possession  he  touched  his  cap,  or  feigned  to, 
and  said :  — 

"  At  your  command,  gentlemen." 

He  who  went  by  the  name  of  Miguel,  came  forward 
and  replied :  "  Something  for  supper." 

Mine  host  put  on  a  sorry  face,  and  with  an  air  of 
disappointment,  which  he  endeavored  to  make  appear 
sincere,  answered:  "Supper? — you  mean  to  get  a  bite 

of  some  sort,  if  even  that  can  be  got God  knows, 

little  has  been  left  here  since  the  siege  began !  A 
loaf  of  bread  which  formerly  was  bought  for  a  cor- 
tonese,  now  costs  half  florin, — just  what  I  pay  at 
the  bakery But  any  how,  for  such  gentlemen 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  15 

like  you,  something  must  be  put  together.  ...  I  will  do 
my  best.  .  .  ." 

After  this  preamble,  —  which  was  made,  as  tavemers 
are  wont  to  make,  for  the  purpose  of  charging  ten  for 
what  cost  only  two,  —  he  opened  a  pantry  and  took  out 
a  pan,  which  he  placed  on  the  grate ;  then  with  his 
apron  he  began  to  fan  the  fire,  raising  the  cinders  to 
the  very  ceiling,  and  thus  soon  warmed  some  ribs  of  a 
Iamb,  which  he  protested  was  the  only  food  to  be  ob- 
tained in  Barletta  at  that  hour,  and  even  that  had  been 
reserved  for  a  corporal  who  was  every  moment  expected 
to  supper.  — "  But  gentlemen  of  your  quality  cannot  be 
sent  to  bed  without  supper." 

However,  the  food  proved  very  acceptable,  and  was 
served  in  earthen-ware  painted  with  flowers.  A  huge- 
bellied  pitcher  of  water,  of  the  same  material,  and  the  half 
of  a  goat's-milk  cheese,  as  hard  as  a  stone,  in  which  still 
appeared  the  marks  of  the  knives  of  those  who  had  proved 
their  strength  against  it,  completed  the  repast.  The  guests 
occupied  two  seats  at  the  bottom  of  the  hall,  if  that 
cavern  blackened  with  soot  could  be  thus  called.  At  the 
opposite  end  was  a  huge  fireplace,  so  wide  that  it  might 
afford  room  to  a  dozen  persons  under  its  shelter.  Three 
or  four  grates  were  built  on  each  side  of  the  chimney. 
In  front  of  it  stood  the  cook's  table,  and  from  the  middle 
of  it,  a  narrow  board,  completing  the  form  of  a  T,  ran  the 
whole  length,  almost  to  the  bottom  of  the  liall,  where  the 
two  travellers  had  seated  themselves.  Four  burners 
from  a  brass  lamp  that  hung  from  the  main  rafter,  gave 
just  light  enough  to  save  the  people  from  bruising  their 
shins  against  the  benches  and  stools  which  surrounded 
the  table. 

Mine  host,  after  preparing  everything  for  his  new  cus- 


16  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

toiners,  returned  to  the  door,  whistling  as  it  was  his  wont. 
At  that  moment  a  man  galloped  up  to  the  tavern,  sprang 
to  the  ground  without  touching  stirrup,  and  cried,  — 

"  Hurrah,  ray  boys,  cheer  up,  —  good  news  !  and  thou, 
Veleno,  multiply  thyself  in  twenty  pieces,  there  shall  be 
work  for  all.  Diego  Garcia  has  returned,  and  has  put 
up  at  his  quarters  ;  he  will  be  here  shortly  ;  they  are 
twenty  or  twenty-five  good  swords,  himself  being  as  good 
as  four  ;  so  try  to  be  ready,  and  hurry  .  .  .  what  art  thou 
about  ?     Art  thou  dead  ?     Away  with  thee  !  .  .  .  " 

The  host  stared  at  the  new-comer  with  wide-open 
eyes.  The  messenger  was  pressed  and  punched  on  every 
side  by  those  brave  fellows,  anxious  to  know  how  the 
ride  had  turned  out. 

"  You  will  kill  me,  and  you  will  know  nothing,"  he 
said,  pushing  them  aside,  and  getting  away  fix>m  them. 
"  Is  it  you  or  I  who  is  to  speak  ?  " 

They  all  cried  out :  "  Let  us  have  it ;  the  news  ?  " 

"  The  news  is  that  we  are  fatigued  to  death,  and  we 
have  just   returned,    after   having    been   on    hoi-seback 

fourteen  hours  without  a  drop  of  water Hallo ! 

Veleno,  bring   me   a   pint,   fresh  ....    my  throat    is 

like   tinder But    forty    heads    of    large    cattle, 

and  sixty  dozens  of  small  ones  are  in  Barletta  by  this 
time ;  and  three  men-at-arms  made  prisoners.  If  it 
please  God,  they  will  have  to  pay  many  gold  ducats  for 
their  ransom,  as  sure  as  we  are  baptized  Christians,  if 

they  wish  to  see  the  doors  of  their  homes  again I 

assure  you,  we  had  enough  work  to  unsaddle  them  and 

take    their   swords And    will  you  bring  the 

wine  before  I  drop  dead  ?  —  Their  movements  were 
as  quick  as  lightning.  One  of  them,  especially,  was 
brought  to  the  ground,  and  the  wounded  horse  had  him 


ETTOKE    FIERAMOSCA.  17 

under,  and  we  all  cried  to  him,  '  surrender  or  you'll  die ! ' 
—  no  use,  he  kept  on  giving  thrusts  in  tierce  with  a  long 
sword  of  his ;  and  had  it  not  broken  on  the  iron  bolster 
of  Inigo's  saddle,  as  he  aimed  a  cut  at  his  horse,  either 
we  must  have  finished  him  with  our  lances,  or  he  would 
have  been  rescued.  But  at  last  he  surrendered  his 
stump  of  a  sword  to  Diego  Garcia." 

At  this,  Venom  arrived  with  the  wine,  and  poured  it 
out  to  the  speaker,  who  said  to  him :  "  Bless  me,  you 
have  come  at  last ! " 

"  What  is  that  devil's  name  ?  "  Boscherino  inquired. 

"  I  could  not  tell  .  .  .  they  say  he  is  a  great 
French  baron  ;  his  name  sounds  like  La  Crotte  .... 
La  .  .  .  .  La  Motta.  Yes.  I  remember  it  now ; 
yes.  La  Motta  ;  the  lump  of  a  beast,  had  you  seen  him, 
to  make  the  earth  quake.  Anyhow,  we  came  out  well ; 
and  if  it  pleases  God  we  will  have  a  good  time."  And 
turning  his  eyes  around  to  the  interior  of  the  tavern,  he 
shouted :  "  What  art  thou  doing  ?  knave  and  poltroon 
that  thou  art !  the  fire  is  not  yet  ready  !  I'll  measure 
thy  shoulders  with  this  lance." 

And  in  fact  he  was  moving  to  carry  out  his  threat, 
when  he  saw  a  large  caldron  placed  over  a  handful  of 
oak  branches,  and  he  forbore.  The  flames  rose  crackling, 
and  the  landlord,  all  in  a  sweat,  with  flushed  cheeks, 
thought  no  more  of  famine  or  siege,  and  knowing  from 
experience  that  there  was  no  triHing  with  Paredes  or 
with  his  companions,  bustled  about  the  house  giving 
orders.  In  very  quick  time  he  had  found  all  that  was 
wanted ;  and  skinning  a  lamb,  he  put  one  half  of  it  in 
the  caldron  to  boil  ;  the  other  half  he  spitted  and 
stretched  across  the  andirons  to  roast.  The  business  was 
in  a  fair  way. 


18  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

The  man  who  ordered  the  supper  remarked :  "  It  is 
well  for  you,  Veleno !  Had  those  fellows  arrived,  and 
had  you  not  been  ready,  you  would  have  felt  the  weight 
of  Diego  Garcia's  four  fingers.  I  will  go  now,  and  send 
them  here  in  half  a  minute's  notice." 

"  Hallo !  Ramazzoto,  are  you  not  coming  back  with 
them  ?  "  said  one  of  the  corporals. 

"  How  can  I  ?  the  squad  is  still  mounted.  I  must 
quarter  them,  and  keep  an  eye  to  the  booty,  which  is  still 
in  the  castle  square ;  and  at  night,  you  know,  there  are 
busy  hands ;  and  in  truth  there  is  no  lack  of  them  among 
these  troops.  Fieramosca,  Miale,  Brancaleone,  and  the 
rest  of  us  have  been  detailed  to  the  watch,  and  it  has 
been  charged  to  us  to  keep  order.  The  hour  for  the 
Spaniards  wiU  come  some  other  time.  Every  one  in  his 
turn." 

"  If  it  be  so,"  said  Boscherino,  "  we'll  go  with  you, 
and  lend  you  a  hand.  Halloo,  boys !  with  a  will ;  this 
man  has  run  over  many  more  miles  than  we  have,  he 
needs  help."  And  thus  they  all  went  to  the  rendezvous 
of  Ramazzoto's  company,  talking  all  the  while  on  what 
had  happened  that  day.  Ramazzoto  was  leading  or 
rather  dragging  his  mule  after  him  by  the  bridle,  sur- 
rounded by  his  friends,  giving  an  account  of  his  exploits, 
and  answering  their  questions.  Boscherino  followed 
them,  paying  great  attention  to  what  was  said,  when  he 
felt  his  cloak  pulled  from  behind,  and  turning,  he  saw  the 
shadow  of  one  of  the  two  strangers  whom  he  had  left  at 
supper  in  the  tavern. 

"  Boscherino,"  said  the  stranger  with  a  low  voice, 
holding  him  back,  while  the  rest  were  going  on  their 
way,  "  the  Duke  wants  to  see  you  ;  have  no  fears,  he  will 
not  harm  you  in  the  least.  But  be  cautious,  and  on  the 
alert,  come ! " 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  19 

Boscherino,  on  hearing  this,  felt  as  if  he  had  caught 
the  ague,  and  whispered  so  low  as  to  be  scarcely  audible, 
"  Are  you  Don  Miguel  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  I ;  hush,  and  act  like  the  brave  man  thou 
art."  Boscherino  had  been  chieftain  of  squads  under  Sig- 
ner Giovanni  Pagolo  Baglioni  and  other  Italian  leaders, 
and  had  always  behaved  with  valor;  no  man  could  be 
more  ready  to  brave  danger  than  he  was ;  so  much  so, 
that  when  a  company  of  five  hundred  men  on  foot,  and 
one  hundred  fusileers  had  been  levied,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Signor  Prospero,  to  bring  reinforcements  to 
Gonzalo,  he  had  been  retained  with  a  large  compensation 
for  his  valuable  services.  But  no  matter  how  stout  his 
heart  was,  what  between  the  message  he  had  just  received 
from  Don  Miguel  and  the  command  to  retrace  his  steps, 
knowing  in  whose  presence  he  was  soon  to  be,  his  knees 
began  to  tremble;  and  from  choice  he  would  rather 
breast  the  swords  than  to  go  whither  he  was  summoned. 
Thinking  of  what  had  just  passed,  he  was  not  wrong  in 
his  mind  and  said  to  himself :  — 

"  I  know  too  well  that  he  heard  me  when  I  said 
'  the  Duke.'  .  .  .  The  fiend  from  hell  was  then  on  my 
tongue,  .  .  •  and  still  he  was  not  near  enough  to  hear 
me,  and  I  do  not  think  I  spoke  very  loud.  But  where 
would  not  that  soul  of  a  renegade  reach?  .  .  .  What 
the  devil  is  he  come  here  for  ?  " 

With  these  thoughts  in  his  mind  they  reached  the 
tavern.  The  family  alone  were  in  the  kitchen.  The 
Duke  had  retired  to  the  quarters  appointed  to  him  for  the 
night,  in  the  story  above  the  large  eating-room.  The 
boards  of  the  floor  were  badly  joined  together,  and  so 
full  of  crevices  that  it  was  very  easy  to  hear  and  see 
what  was  going  on  below. 


20  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

The  host  had  in  fact  some  suspicion  that  this  man  was 
not,  after  all,  what  he  feigned  to  be  ;  but  the  town  being 
blockaded  only  by  land,  all  sorts  of  people  landed  from 
the  sea,  and  however  extraordinary  in  appearance,  without 
attracting  especial  attention,  not  much  notice  was  taken 
of  persons  even  when  they  did  not  exactly  look  like  the 
common  run. 

Don  Miguel  and  Boschei-ino  mounted  the  stairs,  and 
reached  the  Duke's  room.  The  furniture  of  that  apai't- 
ment  consisted  in  a  bed  covered  with  gray  serge,  a  small 
table,  and  a  few  stools.  The  lamp  was  well-nigh  giving 
out,  when  the  wind  blowing  from  the  open  door  put  it  out 
altogether ;  while  Don  Miguel  went  for  another  light, 
Boscherino  found  himself  alone  with  the  Duke.  He  stood 
riveted  to  the  spot,  drawing  up  close  to  the  wall,  daiing 
not  to  speak  and  scarcely  to  breathe,  and  wondering  why 
he  should  feel  so  cowardly,  he  who  cared  for  nobody. 
Still  the  consciousness  of  being  before  that  remarkable 
and  terrible  man,  so  near  to  him,  as  to  hear,  almost  feel 
his  heavy  breathing,  in  that  dai-k  stillness,  alone ;  all  this, 
in  spite  of  himself,  made  his  blood  curdle,  and  he  wished 
himself  dead.  Don  Miguel  came  back  with  a  lamp,  and 
the  Duke  appeared  sitting  on  the  side  of  the  bed.  He 
appeared  like  a  man  who  never  enjoyed  rest  of  body  or 
soul.  Well  built  and  of  spare  limbs,  of  a  height  not 
above  the  ordinary  size,  he  exhibited  a  nervousness  and 
trembling  which  could  not  be  described.  He  had  on  a 
dark  cape  with  sleeves  of  broad  and  overlapping  lists. 
He  carried  a  narrow  dagger  at  the  belt,  and  he  had  laid 
his  sword  on  the  table  near  his  hat,  surmounted  by  only 
one  black  plume.  He  had  gloves  on,  and  rough  travel- 
ling boots.  He  turned  towards  the  new-comers  with  a 
pale  countenance,  two  sunken  cheeks  marked  with  spots 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  21 

black  and  blue,  reddish  mustache  and  beard,  the  latter 
flowing  in  two  divisions  upon  the  breast.  But  nothing 
could  be  imagined  with  which  to  compare'  his  looks. 
His  eyes  would  at  times  dart  like  the  viper's,  then  as  full 
of  charm  as  a  babe's  glance,  and  again  as  terrible  as 
the  bloody  look  of  a  hyena,  all  in  tux'n,  as  it  best  suited 
his  purposes. 

He  looked  at  Boscherino,  who  had  shrunk  into  one 
half  of  his  size,  and  still  kept  the  same  position,  just  as 
if  he  had  been  waiting  to  be  condemned  to  the  gallows. 
The  Duke  endeavored  to  assure  him  with  a  benign  look, 
but  the  soldier  knew  him  too  well,  and  felt  none  the  less 
afraid. 

"  You  have  recognized  me,  Boscherino,"  said  he ; 
"  and  I  jun  glad  of  it.  I  have  always  looked  upon  you 
as  a  trusty  and  honest  fellow.  Had  you  not  come  in 
my  way,  I  would  have  looked  after  you.  Well,  I  knew 
you  were  here.  Tell  nobody  you  have  seen  me.  You 
know  I  can  repay  you  for  your  services ;  and  it  would 
do  you  no  good  to  offend  me." 

The  Caposquadra  felt  the  truth  of  these  words  too 
well,  and  replied,  — 

"  Vostra  EcceUenza  lUustrissima  can  dispose  of  me  at 
your  'pleasure,  and  I  will  be  as  faithful  a  servant  as  I 
ever  was.  Only  allow  me  to  say  one  word  with  frank- 
ness." 

The  Duke  nodded  assent,  and  the  other  continued :  — 

"Noble  lord,  I  have  pledged  you  my  faith,  and  it 
will  never  fail  you.  But  perhaps  you  have  been  seen. 
If,  after  I  leave  you,  should  it  become  known  that  you 
are  here,  a  charge  might  be  laid  on  me,  which  I  deserve 
not.  Thus,  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  come  out  of  this  with 
honor." 


22  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

"  Go,"  the  Duke  answered,  "  be  in  good  spirits,  try 
to  be  a  brave  man,  and  I  will  not  lay  on  thee  any  blame 
thou  deservest  not.  A  few  hours  only  of  incognito  will 
suit  my  purpose  ;  afterwards  I  care  not  what  people  may 
know  or  say ;  but  let  it  never  escape  from  thy  lips,  if 
thou  valuest  my  favor." 

Boscherino  made  no  reply,  he  only  bowed  most  re- 
spectfully ;  but  looked  like  one  who,  ready  to  comply, 
feels  an  apprehension,  withal,  that  there  is  not  much 
trust  placed  in  his  protestations.  He  took  leave,  and 
continuing  his  bows  as  he  walked  backward,  he  left  the 
room,  longing  to  be  in  the  street  again.  After  a  few 
moments  Don  Miguel  came  out  also,  and  went  to  the 
room  prepared  for  him,  and  locked  himself  in.  That 
part  of  the  tavern  remained  for  the  night  as  still  as  if  it 
were  untenanted. 


CHAPTER  n. 

The  company  for  whom  supper  had  been  prepared, 
entered  Venom's  tavern  pretty  near  two  o'clock,  and  the 
large  room  was  filled  by  them  immediately.  Mine 
host  wished  to  do  himself  honor,  and  hence  he  had 
spread  a  clean  white  cloth  on  the  tables ;  the  plate,  the 
spoons,  and  the  forks,  some  of  pewter  and  some  of  brass, 
having  been  carefully  polished,  were  shining  more  than 
usual ;  and  to  make  the  table  even  more  attractive,  he 
had  placed,  here  and  there,  leaves  of  grape-vines  to  serve 
as  mats  for  pitchers  and  tumblers,  and  the  glare  of  many 
lights  sparkled  on  the  drops  of  water  hanging  on  them, 
testifying  that  they  had  been  lately  rinsed.  Diego 
Garcia  de  Paredes  entered  first,  followed  by  the  captive 
French  barons  —  Jacques  de  Guignes,  Giraut  de  Forses, 
and  La  Motte.  The  Spaniard  was  the  most  daring  and 
the  most  athletic  man  of  the  whole  army,  and  perhaps  of 
all  Europe ;  and  he  seemed  built  expressly  for  the  pro- 
fession of  arms,  the  adaptedness  for  which  depended  at 
that  time  above  all  on  great  robustness  and  muscular 
strength.  His  height  was  far  above  that  of  his  com- 
rades ;  constant  exercise  and  continual  hardships  had 
kept  his  form  from  growing  heavy,  and  had  given 
such  thickness  to  brawny  muscle  and  sinew,  as  to  make 
his  breast,  shoulders,  and  limbs  appear  not  unlike  a 
colossus   of    ancient   sculpture,  —  athletic    in    form,  but 


24  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

well  proportioned  and  handsome.  A  neck,  thick  as  a 
bull's,  supported  a  head,  small,  curly,  with  hair  upright 
on  the  crown ;  his  countenance  was  manly,  full  of  con- 
fidence, but  not  haughty ;  there  was  even  a  touch  of 
amiability  ;  and  his  soul,  candid,  loyal,  and  full  of  honor, 
was  transparent  from  it.  He  had  already  doffed  his 
armor,  and  appeared  in  his  dress  of  tight  leathern 
breeches,  so  that  whenever  he  moved  the  muscles  might 
be  seen  rising  and  darting  as  if  under  the  bare  skin  ;  a 
short  cloak,  after  the  Spanish  fashion,  thrown  over  one 
shoulder,  completed  a  dress  elegant  in  its  simplicity. 

"  My  lords  barons,"  he  said,  leading  the  prisoners  into 
the  room  with  a  knightly  courtesy,  "  we  Spaniards  say : 
'  Duelos  con  pan  son  nienos.'  *  The  odds  have  been 
against  you  to-day ;  to-morrow  they  will  be  against  us ; 
but  here  we  join  hands  ;  let  us  eat,  because,  I  think,  we 
are  all  on  the  same  side,  in  this  point,  por  Dios  santo  ; 
we  have  broken  more  than  one  lance,  and  that  is  work 
enough  for  one  day;  they  cannot  say  that  we  let  our 
arms  get  rusty.  Be  of  good  cheer ;  on  the  morrow,  we 
will  talk  about  the  ransom,  and  you  will  be  satisfied  that 
Don  Garcia  knows  how  to  deal  with  chevaliers  of  your 
stamp." 

La  Motte  showed  the  countenance  of  one  who  is 
sorely  vexed  and  still  does  not  wish  to  manifest  his 
vexation.  He  was  a  brave  man,  a  good  soldier,  and 
terrible  with  arms  in  hand,  and  his  appearance  did  not 
belie  his  high  spirits ;  but  being  as  haughty  a  man  as  one 
can  ever  hope  to  meet,  he  could  not  bear  to  receive  any 
kindness  at  the  hands  of  him  who  had  made  him  pris- 
oner. However,  knowing  too  well  how  mean  it  would  be 
to  show  ill-humor,  he  replied  as  pleasantly  as  he  could  :  — 
•  Food  makes  trials  more  bearable. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  25 

"  If  your  hand  bears  down  so  light  in  fixing  a  ran- 
som as  it  did  when  it  gave  a  cut  of  the  sabre,  the  (7m- 
tianissimo  will  have  to  pay  out  of  his  own  purse,  or 
I  will  have  to  keep  you  company  for  the  rest  of  my 
life." 

"  Inigo,"  said  Paredes  to  a  handsome  youth,  twenty- 
five  years  old,  who,  while  waiting  for  his  supper,  had 
commenced  nibbling  at  the  bread,  "  if  there  be  a  question 
about  blows,  we  must  ask  your  horse  how  he  felt  the  cuts 
of  this  baron." 

Then  turning  towards  La  Motte,  he  continued :  — 

"  Too  late  I  notice  that  you  have  no  sword ;  here  is 
mine,"  —  and  unbuckling  the  belt,  he  girded  it  around 
the  captive's  side ;  —  "it  would  be  too  bad  if  that  hand 
of  yours  could  not  find  a  hilt  to  rest  upon.  Barletta  will 
be  your  prison,  until  an  exchange  is  effected  or  a  ran- 
som paid.     Your  word,  knight !  " 

La  Motte  offered  his  right  hand  to  Paredes,  who 
pressed  it.  "  The  same  bargain  for  your  companions. 
Is  it  not  so?"  he  added,  turning  towards  Correa  and 
Azevedo,  two  men-of-arms,  who  had  captured  La  Motte's 
companions.  They  agreed  at  once,  and  with  equal  cour- 
tesy took  their  swords  from  their  sides  and  fastened  them 
on  the  French  prisoners. 

"  Supper 's  ready,"  shouted  Venom,  as  he  was  in  the 
act  of  laying  in  the  centre  of  the  table  a  dish  which  con- 
tained one  half  of  the  lamb,  swimming  in  a  gravy  of 
onions  and  vegetables,  and  a  large  plate  containing  a  pile 
of  lettuce  on  both  sides.  The  sight  of  the  dish  had  no 
less  power  than  the  voice  of  the  host  to  bring  together 
the  famished  company.  With  a  rush,  all  of  one  accord, 
removing  and  replacing  the  settles,  were  at  once  seated, 

and  at  work  ;   and   for   a   kw  minutes  no   words  were 
2 


26  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

heard,  but  instead,  the  clatter  of  plates,  tumblers,  forks, 
and  knives. 

Apart  from  the  rest,  at  the  head  of  the  table,  sat  Diego 
Garcia,  who  had  La  Motte  and  De  Guignes  at  his  sides. 
He  carved  with  a  large  dagger,  and  with  the  rapidity  of  the 
lightning  he  had  cut  the  lamb  into  pieces,  and  divided  it 
among  the  guests.  His  iron  stomach,  at  whose  command 
he  had  two  rows  of  the  whitest  teeth,  so  powerful  as  not 
to  fear  any  comparison,  was  very  soon  appeased,  if  not 
satisfied.  He  left  no  bones  on  his  plate,  because  no  mas- 
tiff could  compete  with  him  in  crushing  and  reducing 
them  to  dust.  When  the  dish  was  empty,  he  filled  his 
goblet  and  those  of  his  neighbors.  They  began  to  be 
warmed  by  the  wine  ;  and  questions,  repartees,  remarks, 
and  jests  went  around  the  room,  about  the  chances  of  the 
war,  their  horses,  the  blows  they  had  given  and  received, 
and  the  different  adventures  of  the  day.  At  the  lower 
extension  of  the  table  sat  the  twenty  or  more  Spaniards, 
who,  out  of  courtesy,  had  left  the  cabecera,  as  they  call  it, 
—  that  is  to  say,  the  upper  table,  —  to  their  chief  and  the 
French  captives.  An  attentive  observer  could  easily 
perceive  in  their  manners  and  words  that  affectionate 
brotherhood  which  binds  together  men  every  day  exposed 
to  the  same  dangers,  when  every  one  feels  the  importance 
of  a  compact  being  formed  to  help  each  other  as  the  occa- 
sion may  require.  It  was  a  picture  worthy  of  Gherardo 
delle  Notti ;  the  rough  and  swarthy  faces  of  those  warriors, 
whom  the  exercise,  the  late  fatigue,  and  the  heat  of  the 
summer  had  made  red  and  fiery,  as  the  light  of  the 
lamps  reflected  upon  them,  created  an  effect  of  chiaro- 
scuro befitting  that  painter's  pencil. 

As  the  supper  was  drawing  to  an  end,  the  conversa- 
tion, as  usual,  became  more  general ;  and  those  men  who 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  27 

had  gained  honor  and  profit  by  the  exploits  of  the  day, 
had  become  merry  and  noisy.  Only  Inigo's  brow  ap- 
peared gloomy.  He  had  his  elbow  on  the  table,  his  look 
was  vacant,  and  he  seemed  to  take  little  or  no  interest  in 
what  his  companions  said  around  him. 

"  Inigo  ! "  said  Azevedo,  holding  his  hand  out  to  him ;  — 
he  had  emptied,  perhaps,  one  glass  more  than  usual,  and 
being  naturally  a  jolly  companion,  he  could  not  bear  to 
see  one  of  the  company  with  a  moody  face ;  — "  Inigo, 
we  shall  have  to  think  you  are  in  love,  if  the  women  of 
Barletta  were  worthy  the  regards  of  a  handsome  fellow 
like  you.  But  here,  please  God,  we  have  nothing  to 
fear.  Perhaps  you  have  left  your  heart  behind  in  Spain 
or  in  Naples  ?  " 

"I  have  no  thought  of  women,  Azevedo,"  answered 
the  youth ;  "  but  I  think  of  the  fine  horse  which  yon 
French  baron  has  almost  killed  when  he  kept  plying 
with  his  hands  like  a  madman,  and  when  he  ought  to 
have  been  satisfied  that  he  could  not  escape.  Poor  Cas- 
tagno !  his  shoulder  is  gone,  I  fear,  and  I  will  never  be- 
stride the  like  of  him.  Don't  you  remember  what  that 
devil  did  in  Taranto  ?  and  when  we  waded  that  river 
....  how  do  you  call  it  ?  .  .  .  .  There,  where  Quigno- 
nes  was  killed  ....  and  the  water  was  deeper  than  we 
thought ;  who  reached  the  shore  first  ?  and  after  so  much 
bravery  and  so  many  dangers  he  was  to  die  at  the  hands 
of  that  enemy  of  God  ! " 

"  Easy,  don't  speak  so  loud,"  said  Correa  ;  "  it  was  done 
in  good  warfare,  and  we  must  not  aggravate  the  prisoner's 
situation  ;  it  would  be  wrong  to  let  them  hear  us." 

"  And  I  swear,"  rejoined  Inigo,  "  I  had  better  be  down 
with  a  good  wound  myself,  if  I  could  see  my  poor  Cas- 
tagno  well ;  and  I  would  fain  have  pardoned  the  French- 


28  ETTOEE  FIERAMOS^A. 

man  had  be  broken  bis  sword  on  ray  bead,  instead  of 
giving  vent  to  bis  fury  against  the  borse.  Tbe  man  is 
to  be  aimed  at ;  at  least  it  is  done  so  by  tbose  wbo  know 
bow  to  bandle  a  sword ;  not  bere  and  tbere  and  every- 
where, like  a  maniac.  Besbrew  him  !  he  acted  as  if  he 
were  chasing  away  flies." 

" I  say  then,  thou  art  right,  por  Dios"  exclaimed 
Segredo,  an  old  soldier,  with  such  a  beard  and  moustache 
as  could  only  belong  to  a  man  who  had  weathered  tbe 
storms  of  many  a  battle.  "When  I  was  young  I  felt 
just  as  thou  dost ;  look  at  this  brow,"  —  and  he  lightly 
struck  it  with  his  right  band,  made  callous  by  wearing 
the  iron  gauntlet,  and  pointed  to  a  scar  which  cut  bis 
eyelid  horizontally,  —  "  this  I  got  from  el  Rey  Cbico,  and 
all  for  tbe  sake  of  a  borse,  the  best  bay  that  was  ever 
ridden  into  a  camp.  That  was  a  borse,  I  assure  you  ! 
When  we  bad  to  fight  at  arm's  length,  it  was  enough  to 
give  him  a  twitch  with  tbe  bridle,  and  make  a  show  at 
the  spur.  I  wish  you  bad  seen  him  then !  Pie  would 
rear,  and  arch,  and  bound  forward,  so  that  if  I  did  not 
wish  to  fly  over  his  ears,  I  bad  to  keep  my  knees  tight, 
I  assure  you  ;  as  be  came  down  on  bis  forefeet  again, 
down  came  my  sword  with  him,  and  it  looked  like  God's 
lightning,  and  by  that  way  I  have  sent  many  a  Moor  to 
take  supper  with  Satanas.  But  at  the  siesta  !  I  would 
lie  down  in  the  shade  between  his  legs ;  poor  Zamoreno 
de  my  alma,  he  would  not  even  chase  the  flies,  lest  he 
might  disturb  me.  Then,  at  the  siege  of  Carthagena, 
where  few  among  you  could  have  been,  and  where  the 
great  Captain  began  to  make  himself  known,  .  .  .  and 
Segredo  tells  you,  it  was  then  the  time  to  make  war,  a 
little  better  than  now,  under  the  very  eye  of  King  Fer- 
dinando,  and  of  Queen  Isabella,  who  was  a  beauty,  and 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  29 

of  all  his  court,  well  paid,  and  both  men  and  horses  kept 
as  if  they  belonged  to  the  prince's  household,  .  .  .  well, 
to  tell  you  about  my  horse,  in  a  sally  where  el  Rey  Chico 
fought  at  the  head  of  his  men  like  a  lion,  —  and  he  was 
a  man  who  only  came  up  to  my  breast,  but  had  an  arm 
that  left  the  mark  wherever  he  touched,  —  that  poor 
beast  had  his  neck  pierced  through  and  through  by  a 
Moorish  lance,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  fell  on 
his  knees.  I  leaped  to  the  ground,  and  saw  at  once  that 
there  was  no  remedy.  Still  I  hoped  to  lead  him  back  out 
of  the  camp,  as  I  could  not  bear  to  abandon  him  ;  he  fol- 
lowed me,  though  he  could  scarcely  keep  on  his  feet.  I 
am  not  ashamed  to  repeat  here  that  very  warm  tears  ran 
down  my  cheeks  through  the  gorget  of  my  helmet,  and 
w^etted  my  neck ;  and  I  had  never  before  known  what  it 
was  to  cry  !  At  that  moment  a  party  of  Moors  wheeled 
around,  pressed  by  a  band  of  soldiers,  and  the  king  had 
to  fly,  and  ran  yelling  like  a  bull.  Alone,  and  on  foot,  I 
gave  myself  up  as  lost.  I  kept  many  of  them  at  bay 
with  my  good  sword ;  but  that  of  the  king  fell  on  my 
head,  cleft  the  helmet,  and  I  was  left  on  the  field  as  dead. 
When  I  recovered,  and  could  rise,  I  found  poor  Zamoreno 
dead  at  my  side." 

Every  one  around  the  table  heard  with  much  feeling 
the  adventures  of  Segredo's  horse ;  and  when  the  old 
soldier  had  told  of  Zamoreno's  death,  he  could  not  help 
showing  in  his  face,  wrinkled  by  age  and  exposure, 
that  his  old  companion  was  still  fresh  in  his  memory. 
But  he  became  ashamed  at  this  show  of  weakness,  and 
filled  the  glass  to  divert  the  eyes  which  were  still  riv- 
eted on  him.  Jacques  de  Guignes,  who,  as  well  as  the 
other  prisoners,  felt  in  much  better  spirits  as  the  stom- 
ach was  filling  up,  having  heard  the  history  of  Zamoreno, 
beoran :  — 


30  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

'■'■Chez  nous,  sir  knight,  this  would  not  have  happened 
so  very  easily,  although  it  is  too  true  that  les  honnes 
coiUumes  de  chevalerie  are  faUing  away  very  fast.  Still 
a  raan-at-arms  would  feel  dishonored  if,  in  an  equal  con- 
test of  arras  and  number,  his  sword  should  fall  on  a  horse. 
But  everybody  knows  that  we  cannot  expect  so  much 
courtesy  from  the  Moors." 

"And  still,"  said  Inigo,  replying  to  a  remark  not  ad- 
dressed to  him,  "  we  can  easily  prove  that  killing  horses 
is  not  an  exclusive  tactic  of  Moors.  We  remember  too 
well  the  plains  of  Benevento  and  Manfredi  could  tell  a 
sad  tale.  And  who  ordered  the  charge  but  Charles 
d'Anjou,  who  was  no  more  of  a  Moor  than  either  of 
us?" 

The  thrust  was  well  aimed,  and  the  Frenchman  seemed 
to  feel  ill  at  ease  on  his  chair. 

"On  dit,  perhaps  it  is  true;  but  Charles  d'Anjou  was 
fighting  for  a  kingdom,  and  he  had  to  do  with  an  excom- 
municated enemy  of  the  Church." 

"And  was  he  not  an  enemy  to  other  people's  prop- 
erty ?  "  replied  Inigo,  with  a  bitter  smile. 

"I  believe  you  know,"  here  chimed  in  La  Motte, 
"  that  the  kingdom  of  Naples  is  a  fief  of  the  Holy  See, 
and  Charles  had  been  invested  with  it ;  and  then  the 
strength  of  a  good  sword  is  to  be  taken  in  account  of 
some  claim." 

"And  then,  and  then  ...  let  us  tell  the  whole  history," 
Inigo  rejoined ;  "  the  German  morions  of  Manfredi,  and 
the  thousand  Italian  chevaliers  who  were  led  by  Conte 
Giordani  against  the  French,  had  given  such  accounts  of 
themselves  from  the  outset  of  the  battle,  that  Charles 
d'Anjou,  wishing  to  become  King  of  Naples,  did  not  judge 
it  amiss  to  have  recourse  to  such  manoeuvres,  notwith- 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  31 

standing  les  bonnes  coutumes  de  chevalerie  so  rigorously 
followed  in  those  times." 

"  If  you  wish  it,  I  will  allow,"  answered  La  Motte, 
"  that  the  German  cuirassiers  are  an  available  soldiery, 
and  perhaps  they  held  out  against  the  French  gensdarme- 
rie  for  a  while,  on  the  day  at  Benevento  ;  but  as  for  your 
thousand  Italians,  oh,  indeed !  if  two  hundred  years  ago 
they  were  what  they  are  now,  it  was  not  necessary  for 
the  French  to  waste  their  time  in  crippling  their  poor 
horses.  During  these  last  five  years  that  I  have  been 
battling  in  Italy,  I  have  had  a  good  chance  to  know 
them.  I  have  followed  King  Charles  under  the  brave 
Louis  d'Ars ;  and  I  assure  you  their  bad  faith  has  given 
us  more  work  than  their  swords.  They  pursue  a  kind  of 
warfare  in  which  French  chivalry  is  entirely  unpractised." 

These  bombastic  words  did  not  please  the  hearers,  and 
were  most  offensive  to  Inigo,  who  had  been  well  brought 
up,  with  good  training,  and  had  talent  above  the  common 
average  ;  he  was  on  friendly  terms  with  many  Italians 
who  were  in  the  pay  of  Spain,  and  knew  well  enough 
how  affairs  had  been  conducted  at  the  descent  of  Charles 
into  Italy.  He  knew,  for  instance,  that  notwithstanding 
this  French  chivalry,  faith  had  not  been  kept  to  the  Flor- 
entines, and  the  Pisans  had  been  excited  to  rebellion 
against  them ;  and  he  knew  that  the  forts  which  had  been 
placed  in  their  hands  by  the  imprudence  of  Pietro  de' 
Medici,  had  not  been  restored  to  them  according  to  prom- 
ise. Inigo  thought  of  all  this,  and  La  Motte's  words 
stung  him  to  the  quick,  as  he  could  not  bear  that  the  poor 
Italians,  betrayed  and  abused  by  the  French,  should  at 
the  same  time  be  branded  by  them  as  traitors,  and  over- 
whelmed with  abuse.  He  was  therefore  about  to  give 
him  a  piece  of  his  mind  ;  but  the  Frenchman,  aware  that 


32  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

his  Tvords  had  created  bad  feelings,  added :  "  You  have 
arrived  from  Spain  only  a  little  while  ago,  gentlemen, 
and  you  do  not  know  what  a  race  of  canaille  the  Italians 
are.  You  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  Duke  Lodovico, 
or  with  the  Pope,  or  with  the  Valentino,  who  first  re- 
ceived us  with  open  arms,  and  then  tried  to  plunge  a 
poniard  into  our  backs.  But  at  Fornovo  they  were 
made  to  feel  that  a  handful  of  men  can  outdo  a  host  of 
traitors  ;  and  the  Moro  himself  was  the  first  caught  in 
his  own  web.  The  villain!  if  he  had  nothing  else  to 
answer  for  but  the  death  of  his  nephew,  would  not  this 
be  enough  to  uphold  him  as  the  most  infamous  of  all 
assassins  ?  " 

"  But,"  Correa  said,  "  his  nephew  was  sickly  and  half- 
witted, and  the  common  report  is  he  died  a  natural  death." 

"  Yes,  as  naturally  as  those  who  die  of  poison.  You 
may  ask  De  Forses  and  De  Guignes,  who  also  quartered 
with  me  at  the  castle  of  Pavia.  I  will  tell  you  what  I 
have  heard  from  the  lips  of  Philippe  de  Comines,  who 
had  it  from  the  King  himself.  The  King  then  went  to 
pay  a  visit  to  the  unfortunate  family  of  Galeazzo.  The 
Moro  led  him  through  dark  corridors,  into  rooms  low  and 
damp,  looking  over  the  trenches  of  the  castle ;  there  he 
found  the  Duke  of  ]\Iilan,  with  his  wife  Isabella  and  his 
children.  She  threw  herself  at  his  knees,  entreating  him 
in  behalf  of  her  father;  she  did  not  dare  to  speak  for 
herself  and  her  husband,  because  that  traitor  Moro  was 
present.  The  unfortunate  Galeazzo  lay  pale  and  ex- 
hausted ;  he  spoke  very  little,  and  seemed  to  be  overcome, 
bewildered  by  the  immensity  of  his  misfortune.  The 
poison,  which  killed  him  at  last,  was  already  working  in 
his  veins.  .  .  .  And  then  take  Cesare  Borgia  for  another 
instance !  where  can  you  find  a  pair,  the  like  of  them  ? 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  33 

We  know  he  has  done  things,  which,  if  related,  would 
not  be  believed.  Still  many  of  his  exploits  are  ali*eady 
well  known.  Everybody  knows  he  murdered  his  brother 
to  get  possession  of  his  honors  and  wealth ;  everybody 
knows  how  he  became  the  master  and  lord  of  Romagna  ; 
everybody  knows  that  he  has  murdered  his  brother-in- 
law,  poisoned  cardinals,  bishops,  and  many  more  who 
were  in  his  way." 

Then  turning  to  his  French  comrades  with  the  counte- 
nance of  one  who  calls  to  mind  a  well-known  fact,  and 
worthy  of  commiseration  :  "  And  the  unfortunate  Ginevra 
of  Montreale  ?  The  handsomest,  the  purest,  the  most 
lovely  of  all  women  I  have  ever  seen !  These  friends  of 
mine  remember  her ;  we  saw  her  on  our  passage  through 
Rome  in  1492.  But  an  evil  destiny  made  her  become 
acquainted  with  Duke  Valentino ;  she  had  been  wedded 
to  one  of  our  soldiers,  whom  she  married  more  through 
obedience  to  her  father  than  from  love.  She  was  seized 
with  a  disease,  the  nature  of  which  no  one  could  under- 
stand ;  they  applied  every  kind  of  remedy ;  it  was  of  no 
use ;  she  died.  However,  a  very  remarkable  accident 
made  me  acquainted  with  a  hellish  plot  which  few  have 
known.  Her  sickness  was  the  effect  of  poison,  adminis- 
tered to  her  by  Valentino,  to  punish  her  for  her  honesty. 
Unfortunate  girl !  Are  not  these  crimes  enough  to  draw 
vengeance  from  Heaven  ?  " 

Here  the  Frenchman  paused,  as  if  to  remember  some 
circumstance  which  the  lapse  of  time  had  dimmed  in  his 
memory. 

"  O  !  yes ;  I  am  right ;  this  very  day,  as  we  were  com- 
ing to  Barletta,  I  saw  among  your  men  one  whose  name 
I  cannot  in  fact  recollect,  but  whom  I  remember  to  have 
often  met  in  Rome  in  those  times.     He  is  of  a  height 

2* 


34  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

and  of  a  countenance  not  so  very  easily  forgotten  ;  he 
was  believed  by  every  one  to  be  the  paramour  of  Ginev- 
ra ;  and  after  her  death  he  disappeared,  and  no  more  was 
heard  of  him.  (3fais,  out,  je  suis  sur  que  c'est  le  meme," 
he  added,  turning  to  his  companions.)  "  When  about  a 
mile  from  the  town,  halting  at  the  fountain  to  wait  for  the 
men  on  foot,  I  saw  that  pale  youth  with  auburn  hair,  and 
I  never  saw  a  handsomer  youth,  and  a  more  pensive 
brow.  .  .  .  Yes,  yes,  it  is  he  certainly ;  but  do  not  ask 
me  the  name." 

The  Spaniards  looked  at  each  other,  endeavoring  to 
guess  at  whom  he  meant. 

One  asked,  "  Was  he  an  Italian  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Italian.  True,  I  did  not  hear  him  speak ;  but  a 
companion  who  had  dismounted  and  reached  him  a  drink, 
spoke  to  him  in  Italian." 

"  And  his  arms  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  he  had  on  a  plain  cuirass,  with 
a  coat  of  mail ;  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  feathers  and 
scarf  azure." 

Inigo  at  once  cried,  "  Ettore  Fieramosca ! " 

"That's  it — Fieramosca,"  answered  La  Motte;  "I  re- 
member now —  Fieramosca.  Well,  this  Fieramosca  was 
in  love  with  Ginevra,  as  it  was  commonly  reported ;  and 
many  thought  he  had  destroyed  himself,  as  he  was  seen 
no  more  after  her  death." 

At  this  the  Spaniards  smiled,  and  remarked  it  was  no 
wonder  that  he  was  always  melancholy,  and  he  kept  so 
much  to  himself,  and  led  a  life  so  different  from  his  com- 
rades. But  all  praised  his  good  nature,  his  valor  and  his 
courteousness  ;  which  was  a  good  proof  of  how  much  he 
was  beloved  and  esteemed  by  the  whole  army.  Above 
the  rest,  Inigo  was  a  particular  friend  of  his ;  and  with  a 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  35 

noble  soul,  admiring  without  jealousy  the  noble  qualities 
of  the  Italian  warrior,  the  more  he  knew  him  to  be  his 
superior,  the  more  he  loved  him,  and  spoke  for  him  with 
all  that  warmth  of  friendship  of  which  a  Spaniard's  heart 
is  capable. 

"  You  like  his  countenance  !  and  who  should  not  ?  but 
what  is  beauty  to  a  man  ?  If  you  knew  the  soul  of  that 
youth !  the  nobility,  the  greatness  of  that  heart !  if  you 
knew  what  he  has  done,  sword  in  hand,  with  that  daring 
valor  which  in  many  is  allied  to  a  kind  of  madness,  but  in 
him  is  on  the  contrary  ever  united  to  a  cool  judgment ! 
...  In  my  lifetime  I  have  known  many  a  brave'youth 
both  at  the  court  of  Spain  and  in  France  ;  but  I  say  to 
you,  on  my  honor,  that  I  have  never  met,  nor  do  I  ex- 
pect ever  to  meet,  in  one  person,  so  many  virtues  as  are 
harbored  in  the  breast  of  that  Italian,  who,  por  Dios, 
possesses  them  all." 

•  Fieramosca,  being  a  great  favorite  with  the  army,  all 
wanted  to  put  in  a  word,  and  express  their  sentiments  in 
his  behalf;  even  old  Segredo  appeared  as  tender  as  the 
rest  on  that  subject,  and  said  :  — 

"  It  is  true  I  nefs^er  had  much  time  to  throw  away  with 
women ;  and  I  could  never  understand  how  a  baron, 
sheathed  in  a  coat  of  mail,  could  ever  worry  after  them  ; 
still,  when  I  see  that  brave  young  man,  always  with  low 
spirits  and  sorrowful  countenance,  he  gives  rise  in  my 
breast  to  such  feelings  as  I  cannot  understand,  and,  por 
Dios  santo,  I  would  truly  give  my  best  horse,  (Pardo 
excepted,)  to  see  him  once  enjoying  a  hearty  laugh." 

"  I  always  said  that  it  was  the  effect  of  love,"  Azevedo 
remarked.  "  When  you  see  a  young  man  with  a  pale 
face,  very  little  to  say,  and  fond  of  solitude,  you  may  be 
sure  some  woman  has  a  hand  in  it.     It  is  ti'ue,  however," 


36  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

—  and  here  he  smiled,  — "  that  sometimes  a  couple  of 
games  at  the  zeccJdnetta,  if  the  odds  are  against  you,  will 
give  a  bitter  taste  to  your  mouth,  and  will  make  you  aS 
pale  and  downcast  as  ten  petdcoats  will ;  .  .  .  but,  no 
matter ;  it  is  a  different  affair  altogether,  and  does  not 
last  so  long.  As  to  Fieramosca,  there  is  no  danger  of 
that  sort ;  I  never  saw  him  handling  cards.  Now  I 
understand  the  reason  of  his  nocturnal  rambles.  You 
know  that  my  windows  open  over  the  Molo.  I  have 
seen  him  more  than  once  to  take  a  boat  alone  late  in  the 
night  and  row  around  the  castle.  '  A  pleasant  journey  to 
thee,'  1  would  say  as  I  was  going  to  bed  ;  every  one  to  his 
own  taste ;  and  I  thought  that  he  was  in  quest  of  some 
love  adventure  ;  but  I  could  never  imagine  that  he  went 
to  sea  to  weep  over  the  departed.  I  can  scarcely  believe 
it ;  a  soldier  like  him  to  take  after  such  nonsense  !  " 

"  This  proves,"  replied  Inigo,  "  that  a  heart  good  and 
affectionate  can  beat  in  a  brave  soldier's  breast,  and  viva 
Dios  !  that  on  this  point  we  must  be  just  to  Fieramosca, 
and  all  the  Italians  who  are  under  pay  of  the  Colonnas  ; 
no  one,  who  carries  a  sword  at  his  belt  and  a  lance  in  his 
hand,  can  boast  of  wielding  them  better,  or  of  being  in 
the  least  more  brave  than  any  of  them." 

To  this  eulogy,  which  was  rendered  with  i\\e  warmth 
of  a  generous  and  truthful  heart,  the  Spaniards  responded 
with  words  and  signs  of  approbation,  protesting  that  they 
had  opportunities  to  witness  the  bravery  of  the  Italian 
men-at-arms  every  day.  But  the  three  prisoners,  who 
began  to  feel  heated  with  the  conversation  and  with  wine, 
did  not  seem  to  agree  with  the  rest.  La  Motte,  moreover, 
had  a  private  grudge  against  Inigo,  w4io  had  made  him 
the  butt  of  his  unsparing  taunts  during  the  whole  even- 
ing ;  and  he  held  every  one  inferior  to  himself,  so  incar- 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  37 

nate  was  bis  self-esteem  and  vanity  !  Hence  he  returned 
only  a  look  of  pity  and  a  forced  smile  to  the  assertions  of 
the  Spaniard,  whose  face  became  flushed  with  rage,  and 
could  scarcely  control  himself,  when  La  Motte  continued 
thus : — 

"  As  to  that,  sir  knight,  neither  I  nor  my  companions 
are  of  your  opinion.  We  have  been  in  the  wars  of  Italy 
for  many  years ;  and,  as  I  have  told  you,  we  have  seen 
more  use  made  of  poison  and  stilettoes  than  of  swords  or 
lances,  believe  me.  A  French  gens  d'armes"  and  he 
put  on  an  air  of  great  importance,  "  would  be  ashamed 
to  hire  men  for  tlie  work  of  hjs^stable  who  were  not 
better  than  these  Italians ;  then  imagine  whether  they 
can  stand  any  comparison  with  us." 

"  Hear,  sir  knight,  and  open  your  ears  well,"  answered 
Inigo,  who  could  no  longer  contain  himself,  while  listen- 
ing to  this  man  heaping  insults  on  the  heads  of  his  friends, 
and,  moreover,  seized  with  pleasure  the  opportunity  of 
venting  his  anger  against  him  who  had  crippled  his 
horse,  —  "had  we  here  some  of  our  Italians,  and  Fiera- 
mosca  above  all,  and  were  you  not  a  prisoner  of  Diego 
Garcia,  but  a  free  man,  you  might  learn,  before  retiring 
to  your  repose,  that  a  man-at-arms  from  France  would 
have  to  use  both  hands  to  save  his  skin  from  an  Italian  ; 
but  as  you  are  a  prisoner,  and  here  are  only  Spaniards, 
I,  as  a  friend  of  Fieramosca,  and  of  the  Italians,  protest, 
in  their  behalf,  that  you,  or  whoever  says  that  they  are 
afraid,  with  arms  in  hand,  to  meet  any  one,  and  that 
they  are,  as  you  have  said,  cowai'ds  and  poltroons,  utters 
a  villanous  lie;  and  I  affirm  that  they  will  meet  any 
challenge,  on  foot  or  horseback,  with  all  arms,  or  with 
the  sword  alone,  wherever,  whenever,  it  may  please  the 
challenger." 


JioH.>,Jol> 


38  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

La  Motte  and  his  companions,  as  Inigo  began  to  speak, 
had  given  him  an  arrogant  look ;  but  as  he  proceeded, 
they  gradually  betrayed  astonishment  and  anger,  and 
waited  for  the  conclusion.  If,  in  the  midst  of  a  mirthful 
and  noisy  company  words  of  blood  and  death  are  uttered, 
all  become  silent,  and  are  held  in  suspense  to  know  how 
the  affair  will  end.  So  the  clamor  being  stilled,  the 
Spaniards  were  anxiously  waiting  for  the  result  of  this 
quarrel. 

"  We  are  prisoners,"  rejoined  La  Motte  with  a  mod- 
esty full  of  disdain ;  "  and  we  might  not  well  accept  a 
challenge ;  but,  with  the  sanction  of  these  men-at-arms 
who  have  received  our  swords,  and  with  a  clear  under- 
standing that  they  will  receive  a  just  ransom,  now  in  my 
own  name,  and  in  that  of  my  companions,  and  of  the 
whole  French  army,  I  do  make  this  reply  to  you,  and  I 
repeat  what  I  have  said  long  ago,  and  what  I  will  ever 
proclaim,  everywhere,  that  the  Italians  are  only  fit  to 
plot-tceason,  are  worthless  onjLbe  battle-field,  and  that 
they  are  the  meanest  race  that  ever  mounted  a  horse  or 
put  on  a  cuirass.  Whoever  says  I  lie,  lies  himself,  and  I 
will  prove  my  assertion,  sword  in  hand." 

Then  he  took  from  his  bosom  a  golden  cross,  kissed  it, 
and  placed  it  on  the  table.  "  And  may  I  have  no  hope  in 
this  sign  of  our  salvation,  when  my  last  hour  shall  come, 
may  I  be  proclaimed  as  a  false  knight,  held  unworthy  to 
wear  golden  spurs,  if  I  and  my  companions  do  not  an- 
swer the  challenge  which  the  Italians  through  you  have 
sent  to  me;  and  with  the  help  of  God,  of  Our  Lady, 
and  of  St.  Denis,  who  will  certainly  stand  by  us,  we  shall 
show  to  the  whole  world  how  much  difference  there  is 
between  the  French  soldiers  and  this  I'abble  whom  you 
have  undertaken  to  patronize." 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  39 

"  And  be  it  so,  in  God's  name,"  was  Inigo's  response. 
Then  lie  also  unbuttoned  his  jupon,  and  took  from  his 
neck  a  medal  of  Our  Lady  of  Monserrato,  with  which  he 
crossed  himself,  and  placed  it  by  La  Motte's  golden  cross. 
It  is  true  he  betrayed  some  mortification,  because  his 
poverty  did  not  allow  him  to  show  a  battle-pledge  equal 
in  value  to  that  of  La  Motte,  but  overcoming  that  feeling, 
he  said  boldly  :  — 

"  There  is  my  pledge  —  Diego  Garcia  will  take  charge 
of  them  in  the  name  of  Gonzalo,  who  Avill  not  refuse  free 
ground  to  our  noble  friends,  or  to  the  French  knights 
who  will  appear  in  the  contest." 

"  Not  he ! "  said  Garcia,  taking  up  the  pledges.  "  Gon- 
zalo will  never  hinder  this  brave  people  from  trying  their 
swords  and  to  prove  themselves  true  knights.  But  you, 
sir  baron,"  —  turning  to  La  Motte,  —  "you  will  have 
between  your  teeth  a  bone  to  pick  much  harder  than  you 
imagine." 

"  (Jest  notre  affaire"  answered  the  Frenchman,  with  a 
toss  of  the  head  and  a  smile ;  "  neither  I  nor  my  com- 
panions will  ever  think  that,  to  unhorse  four  Italians,  for 
the  purpose  of  convincing  this  brave  Spaniard  of  his 
mistake,  has  been  the  most  dangerous  or  noblest  achieve- 
ment of  our  lives." 

Diego  Garcia  never  felt  in  good  spirits,  and  in  his  ele- 
ment, but  when  he  was  either  in  the  heat  of  a  fight,  or 
there  was  a  question  of  fighting.  It  is  no  wonder  then, 
that  when  he  saw  arrangements  made  for  a  challenge, 
which  would  be  fought  and  contested  with  all  the  fury 
that  national  honor  can  inspire,  he  could  scarcely  keep  in 
his  skin ;  and  raising  his  head  and  voice,  and  clapping 
two  hands  which  would  have  befitted  Sampson's  arms, 
exclaimed  :  — 


40  ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA. 

"  Knigbt,  your  sentiments  are  such  as  only  men  of 
honor  and  soldiers  of  your  temper  can  speak,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  that  deeds  will  not  belie  your  words.  Long  may 
the  brave  of  all  nations  live  !  "  And  saying  so,  he  filled 
his  cup ;  and  as  the  noble  soldier's  pledge  went  around, 
they  all  quaffed  their  goblets  to  the  honor  of  the  con- 
querors to  be.  As  the  excitement  subsided  a  little,  Inigo 
added :  — 

"  The  insult  you  have  offered  to  the  Italian  name,  sir 
knight,  is  such  as  will  not  be  easily  forgotten  by  ray 
friends,  or  that  will  end  with  the  breaking  of  a  lance,  as 
it  were  only  the  issue  of  a  joust.  I  make  no  arrange- 
ments now  as  to  the  number  of  combatants  ;  this  will  be 
fixed  upon  by  the  two  parties ;  but  whatever  that  may  be, 
I  offer  to  you  and  to  your  companions  battle  with  all 
arras,  and  to  the  last  blood,  until  every  man  be  dead,  or 
made  prisoner,  or  placed  Jiors  de  combat.  Do  you  accept 
the  terms  ?  " 

"I  do." 

The  conditions  being  accepted,  and  there  being  nothing 
else  to  be  done  for  the  present  in  the  matter,  and  it  being 
very  late,  they  all  felt  the  want  of  rest  after  the  labor  of 
the  day.  They  rose  with  one  accord,  and  leaving  the 
tavern,  disbanded  and  moved  towards  their  quarters. 
The  French  barons  were  taken  under  charge  with  due 
honor,  and  lodged  by  those  who  had  made  them  prison- 
ers. But  we  feel  warranted  in  asserting  that,  notwith- 
standing the  bravadoes  with  which  they  had  affected  to 
express  such  low  opinion  of  the  Italians,  a  certain  inward 
feeling,  and  the  experience  they  severally  had  in  Italian 
wars,  made  them  feel  that  deeds  more  than  words  would 
be  required  to  make  them  come  out  of  the  meeting  with 
honor.     And  Inigo,  however  confident  he  felt  in  the  valor 


I 


ETTOKE  FIERAMOSCA.  41 

of  his  friends,  and  however  assured  that,  for  the  name 
of  the  Italian  arms,  they  would  stand  against  the  whole 
world,  still,  taking  into  consideration  that  the  other  party 
were  Avarriors  of  well-proven  skill,  and  the  most  tried 
swords  of  the  French  army,  he  could  not  help  feeling 
great  anxiety  as  to  the  end  which  that  important  affair 
might  come  to.  In  fact.  La  Motte  and  his  companions 
were  just  the  men  to  give  a  challenger  the  meeting  he 
desired.  Their  prowess  was  known  to  every  man  of  arms 
of  those  times  ;  and  in  the  French  ranks  were  many  a 
man  not  inferior  to  them  in  courage  and  training ;  and  the 
famous  Bayard,  to  mention  no  other,  added  great  weight 
to  their  side  of  the  scales. 

In  spite  of  all  these  thoughts,  the  high-minded  Span- 
iard never  regretted  to  have  taken  side  with  the  Italians ; 
and  he  felt  that  he  would  have  never  pardoned  himself 
had  he  allowed  that  impertinent  captive  to  insult  so  wan- 
tonly those  who  did  not  deserve  the  insult ;  were  they 
not  Inigo's  friends,  and  absent  forsooth  ?  and,  as  he  said 
to  himself,  how  can  the  man  who  fights  for  his  country 
be  conquered  ?  Thus  reassured  in  his  heart,  he  deter- 
mined to  confer  with  Fieramosca  in  the  morning,  and  to 
take  every  measure  in  his  power  to  arrange  matters  for 
the  honor  of  the  party  he  had  taken  under  his  protection. 
Full  of  these  honorable  thoughts,  he  waited,  without 
much  sleep,  for  the  hour  he  could  set  out  to  work. 


CHAPTER    III. 

The  fortress  of  Barletta,  in  wliicli  Gonzalo  and  sev- 
eral superior  ofRcei's  of  the  army  had  their  quarters,  Avas 
situated  between  the  main  piazza  of  the  town  and  the 
sea.  The  officers,  both  Spanish  and  Itahan,  with  their 
attendants  and  squires,  were  lodged  in  the  houses  of 
private  citizens  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the 
fortress.  One  of  the  best  mansions  had  been  appropri- 
ated for  the  brothers  Prospero  and  Fabrizio  Colonna  and 
their  splendid  train  of  squires,  servants,  and  horses,  as  it 
was  befitting  their  noble  family.  Ettore  Fieramosca  had 
become  endeared  to  them  for  his  many  beautiful  traits  of 
character,  and  they  held  him  in  the  place  of  a  son,  and 
had  assigned  to  him  a  small  dwelhng  near  the  sea-shore, 
where  he  was  comfortably  lodged  with  his  attendants, 
horse,  and  baggage.  A  room  in  the  upper  story,  which 
looked  to  the  east,  was  his  sleeping  apartment. 

It  was  the  morning  after  the  supper,  at  the  fii'st  peep 
of  day,  when  a  dim  gray  light  scarcely  defined  the  dark 
boundary  of  the  sea,  young  Fieramosca  had  left  his  bed, 
on  which  he  did  not  always  enjoy  easy  slumbers,  and  had 
gone  to  a  terrace,  the  pillars  of  which  were  gently  laved 
by  the  waves  moved  by  the  light  morning  breeze. 

Unhappy  citizens  of  the  north  !  You  cannot  appreciate 
the  value  of  this  hour  under  a  beautiful  southern  sky,  on 
the  sea-shore,  when  nature  is  yet  buried  in  its  slumbers, 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  43 

and  the  stillness  is  scarcely  broken  by  the  subdued  gurgle 
of  the  billow,  which,  like  tlie  thought  of  man,  has  never 
rested  since  its  creation,  and  will  not  cease  to  move  but 
when  it  w^ill  cease  to  exist.  Only  he  who  has  found  him- 
self alone  at  this  hour,  —  only  he  who  has  felt  the  last 
beating  of  the  soft  wing  of  a  morning  bat  in  the  opening 
of  the  warm  season  on  the  charming  coast  of  the  Regno, 

—  he  alone  well  knows  how  great  is  the  celestial  beauty 
of  things  created. 

A  palm-tree  grew  on  the  flank  of  the  terrace.  Seated 
on  the  parapet,  his  shoulder  leaning  against  the  tree,  and 
supporting  his  knee  with  crossed  hands,  our  youthful 
knight  enjoyed  some  moments  of  rest,  and  bi'eathed  that 
pure  air  which  is  the  harbinger  of  dawn. 

Nature  had  bestowed  upon  him  the  precious  gift  of 
a  soul  aspiring  after  whatever  is  fair,  good,  and  noble. 
Only  one  fault  he  had,  if  it  may  be  called  a  fault  —  he 
was  too  hiono.  But,  reared  from  his  tender  youth  in  the 
profession  of  arms,  he  soon  acquired  knowledge  of  men 
and  things ;  with  a  mind  naturally  correct,  he  readily 
learnt  within  what  limits  goodnesg  should  be  kept,  lest  it 
should  degenerate  into  weakness ;  and  that  sternness  which 
is  oftentimes  the  result  of  a  life  exposed  to  continual 
dangers,  had  become,  in  a  heart  like  his,  a  just  firmness, 

—  the  noble  and  precious  virtue  that  always  dwells  in  a 
manly  breast. 

Fieramosca's  father,  a  gentleman  of  Capua,  of  the 
school  of  Braccio  da  Montone,  had  become  old  in  the 
wars  which  lacerated  Italy  in  the  fifteenth  century,  and 
on  his  death  bequeathed  to  his  son  only  the  legacy  of  a 
sword ;  and  Ettore  thought  that  the  profession  of  arms 
was  the  only  one  worthy  of  himself,  and  for  many  years 
he  really  had  no  other  aspirations  but  those  of  the  times 


44  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

in  which  he  lived,  when  the  strength  of  arms  was  em- 
ployed only  to  enhance  fame  and  wealth. 

But  as  he  grew  in  age,  he  also  increased  in  wisdom ; 
he  always  improved  the  brief  intervals  of  respite  he  had 
from  the  wars  in  study  and  reading,  instead  of  wasting  his 
time  in  the  chase,  jousts,  and  other  amusements  indulged 
in  by  the  youth  of  those  times.  He  became  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  ancient  writers,  and  with  the  honored 
deeds  of  those  who  had  shed  their  blood  for  their  coun- 
try's sake,  not  for  the  sake  of  those  who  paid  best !  He 
then  felt  that  the  profession  of  arms  is  in  itself  a  nefari- 
ous one,  if  it  be  undertaken  on  the  principle  of  the  out- 
law, who  fights  only  for  the  purpose  of  plundering  his 
fellow-man,  and  not  for  the  noble  and  virtuous  motive  of 
defending  himself  and  his  from  foreign  aggression. 

When  still  a  boy,  he  was  obliged  to  follow  his  father 
on  an  important  mission  to  Naples.  At  the  court  of 
Alfonso,  he  became  acquainted  with  the  famous  Pontano, 
who,  being  well  pleased  with  the  talents  and  handsome 
appearance  of  the  youth,  became  attached  to  him.  He 
admitted  him  into  the  academy,  which,  although  estab- 
lished by  the  Panormita,  still  went  by  the  name  of  Pon- 
tania,*  and  educated  him  with  great  care,  receiving  in 

*  Antony  of  Palermo,  usually  called  Panormita,  had  established  in 
Naples  a  societ}'  of  literaiy  men,  which  began  to  flourish  about  the 
middle  of  the  fifteenth  century.  Pontano  succeeded  the  Panonnita; 
and  the  academy  has  ever  since  been  known  by  the  name  of  Ponta- 
mana.  The  Panormita  died  in  1471,  and  Pontano  in  1503,  the  year  in 
which  the  challenge  of  Barletta  took  place.  Before  his  death  he  had 
spumed  at  the  honors  offered  to  him  by  Loiais  XII.,  who  was  anxious 
to  reconquer  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  while  the  Italians  held  out 
against  him,  backed  by  the  troops  of  Don  Gonzalo  de  Cordova.  In 
the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  centuiy  the  south  of  Italy  was  the 
theatre  of  a  struggle  precisely  of  the  s.ame  character  as  the  one  going 
on  now  in  Lombardy.    The  French  were  then  the  hated  intruders, 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  45 

return  for  his  kindness  that  affectionate  respect  which  is 
the  offspring  of  gratitude  blended  with  admiration. 

The  eloquent  appeals  of  the  teacher  kindled  a  fire  of 
love  for  his  country  and  for  Italian  glory  which  could  not 
be  smothered  in  a  heart  like  Ettore's,  and  grew  almost  to 
a  degree  of  frenzy.  He  challenged  a  French  gentleman, 
his  superior  in  age  and  strength,  to  fight  with  the  sword, 
because  he  had  spoken  of  the  Italians  with  disrespect, 
wounded  him,  and  made  him  retract  his  words,  before  the 
King  and  his  court.  After  leaving  Naples,  and  after 
many  vicissitudes,  he  met  with  those  adventures  of  love 
of  which  we  have  had  some  hint  from  the  conversation 
of  the  French  knight  in  the  preceding  chapter. 

But  when  Charles  VIII.  had  created  so  much  disturb- 
ance in  Italy,  and  the  French  troops  kept  it  either  in 
fetters  or  in  continual  fear,  he  felt  the  love  of  his  country 
burning  more  fervidly  within  his  heart,  as  he  witnessed 
the  overbearing  conduct  of  those  intruders,  who  acted  as 
if  they  were  the  lords  of  the  country.  He  was  indig- 
nant at  hearing  the  report  of  their  insolence  in  their 
passage  through  Lombardy,  Tuscany,  and  other  Italian 
states ;  and  when  he  heard  of  the  bold  answer  made  by 
Pier  Capponi  to  the  King,  and  how  the  latter  had  yielded, 
his  joy  knew  no  bounds,  and  he  praised  the  gallant  Flor- 
entine to  the  sky. 

The  royal  family  of  Naples  had  been  driven  away. 
Then  Fieramosca  thought  it  better  to  attach  himself  to 
the  Spanish  cause,  in  order  to  check  as  much  as  possible 
the  too  much  increashig  power  of  the  other  party,  and 
because  he  deemed  Spanish  self-conceit  less  unbearable 
than  the  hollow  French  boasting;  moreover,  he  feared 

whom  the  Italo-Spanish  armies  endeavored  to  drive  out  of  the  Penin- 
sula.    See  Prescott's  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  Part  II.  eh.  x.  xi.  xii. 


46  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

less  an  enemy  who  could  not  approach  Italy  but  by 
sea ;  and,  lastly,  he  thought  that  if  they  could  succeed  in 
driving  the  French  away  by  means  of  the  arms  of  the 
Spaniards,  it  would  not  be  so  difficult  to  establish  a 
good  government  in  Italy. 

A  few  straggling  stars  were  fast  disappearing  at  the 
approach  of  the  eastern  light.  The  sun  had  already 
illumined  the  highest  tops  of  the  Gargano,  imparting  to 
them  a  roseate  color,  which,  in  the  shady  recesses  of  the 
mountain,  changed  into  purple,  whilst  the  beach,  which  was 
shaped  in  the  form  of  a  half-moon,  connecting  with  the 
Barletta  shore,  displayed,  at  the  light  of  the  growing  day, 
a  beautiful  and  varied  assemblage  of  valleys  and  hills 
which  descended  to  bathe  in  the  sea.  The  thicket  of 
chestnut-trees,  already  shining  with  the  golden  light  of 
the  morning  sun  on  the  crest  of  the  mountain,  opened  in 
their  descent  either  in  grassy  lawns  of  most  beautiful 
green,  or  in  patches  of  cultivated  land.  At  some  point 
stood  prominent  the  whiteness  of  a  rock,  in  others,  the 
flank  of  a  high  bluff  appeared  dyed  with  red  or  yellow, 
according  to  the  different  quality  of  the  soil.  The  sky- 
coloi-ed  sea  underneath  seemed  motionless,  but  for  the 
incessant  rolling  of  the  tide  against  the  rocks,  thus  con- 
fining them  with  a  belt  of  the  whitest  foam. 

In  the  more  interior  part  of  the  gulf,  on  a  small  island 
connecting  with  the  main  land  by  a  long  and  narrow 
bridge,  in  the  midst  of  palms  and  cypress-trees,  was  built 
a  monastery  with  a  small  church  and  belfry,  all  inclosed 
within  a  wall,  indented  with  merlons  and  towers  for  a 
protection  against  a  first  attack  of  pirates  or  Saracens. 

Ettore  seemed  to  gaze  in  that  direction  with  an  impas- 
sioned look  ;  and  straining  his  eyes,  while  the  fog,  which 
at   that   time  covered  the   low  lands,   scai'cely  allowed 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  47 

him  to  distinguish  the  outlines  of  the  building,  he  at- 
tentively listened  to  the  feeble  sound  of  the  bell  which 
tolled  the  morning  Ave  Maria,  and  Avas  so  much  absorbed 
that  he  did  not  hear  Inigo,  who  was  calling  him  from  the 
yard,  and  who,  not  receiving  any  answer,  mounted  the  stairs. 

"  After  a  day  like  yesterday,  I  did  not  think  you 
would  be  up  before  the  sun,"  said  Inigo,  advancing  to 
the  terrace. 

If  you  have  ever  been  engrossed  with  a  great  and  fiery 
thought,  you  can  well  understand  how  far  from  pleasant  it 
must  have  been  to  Fieramosca  to  be  caught  in  that  mood 
of  mind,  and  to  be  obliged  to  give  up  his  meditations. 
He  turned  around  with  a  countenance  which  betrayed 
his  feelings  to  such  an  extent  that  Inigo  almost  felt  that 
he  was  unwelcome.  But  Ettore's  soul  was  too  just  and 
affectionate  to  blame  his  friend  for  this  involuntaiy  in- 
trusion. Without  making  a  precise  reply  to  the  remark 
of  Inigo,  he  advanced  to  meet  him,  shook  him  by  the 
hand,  and,  having  recovered  himself  entirely,  said  in  per- 
fectly good  humor :  — 

"  What  good  wind  has  brought  thee  here  at  this  hour  ?" 

"  The  best  wind ;  and  I  expect  a  guerdon  for  the  news 
I  am  going  to  give  thee.  This  is  the  reason  why  I  have 
scarcely  waited  for  daylight,  and  have  hastened  hither. 
I  have  always  envied  thy  valor ;  to-day  I  envy  thy  good 
luck.  A  happy  man  thou  art,  mine  Ettore !  Heaven 
has  set  apart  for  thee  a  feat  of  honor,  which  I  am  sure 
thou  wouldst  have  purchased  at  any  price.  Well,  thou 
hast  it  now  before  thee  without  expense  or  trouble. 
Truly  thou  art  born  in  good  luck  !  " 

Fieramosca  led  his  friend  into  the  house,  and  having 
seated  him  opposite  to  himself,  was  impatient  to  hear 
about  this  great  fortune.     He  was  in   a  few  words  in- 


48  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

formed  of  what  had  taken  place  the  evening  before,  how 
he  had  taken  up  the  Italian  side,  and  of  the  intended 
challenge.  When  he  had  repeated  the  insolent  words  of 
La  Motte,  —  and  we  may  be  sure  he  knew  how  to  repeat 
them,  —  the  brave  Italian  jumped  on  his  feet,  striking  his 
clenched  fist  on  the  table,  and  with  eyes  darting  a  fierce 

"  No,  not  yet,"  he  cried,  "  is  our  misery  come  to  this, 
that  we  lack  arms  or  swords  to  ram  back  into  the  throat 
of  this  French  thief  what,  in  an  unlucky  hour  for  him, 
has  escaped  from  his  mouth  !  And  may  God  bless  thy 
tongue,  Inigo,  my  brother,  (and  he  embraced  him  affec- 
tionately) ;  I  shall  be  eternally  thankful  to  thee  for  the 
care  thou  hast  taken  of  our  honor,  and,  alive  or  dead,  I 
shall  never  forget  it."  There  was  no  end  to  his  expres- 
sions of  thanks,  to  the  offers  of  his  grateful  heart,  and 
to  the  caresses  he  bestowed  on  his  friend.  As  that  first 
impulse  had  subsided  a  little, — 

"  Now,"  said  Fieramosca,  "  it  is  time  to  act,  not  to  talk." 
He  then  called  a  servant ;  and  while  the  menial  assisted 
him  in  dressing,  he  went  on  mentioning  the  names  of 
those  who  might  be  chosen  to  answer  the  challenge,  desii*- 
ous  to  have  a  band  as  large  as  possible. 

"  There  are  many  good  ones  amongst  us.  But  this  is 
an  affair  of  too  much  importance.  Let  us  name  the  best. 
Brancaleone,  —  yes,  he  is  one.  He  has  such  a  pair  of 
shoulders  at  his  command  that  there  is  no  fear  that  any 
French  lance  will  bend  him  an  inch.  Capoccio  and 
Giovenale  ; — these  three  are  Romans ;  and,  I  assure  thee, 
the  Horaces  were  no  better  swordsmen.  We  have  three 
now.  Let  us  see  :  FanfuUa  da  Lodi,  that  madcap,  dost 
thou  know  him  ?  (Inigo  looked  upward,  knit  his  brows 
a  little,  and  pressed  his  hps,  like  one  who  is   endeav- 


ETTOKE  FIERAMOSCA.  49 

oring  to  remember  something.)  O  yes,  thou  certmnly 
knowest  him  !  That  Lombard,  one  of  the  body-guard  of 
Signor  Fabrizio — that  fellow  who  was  seen  the  other 
day  galloping  on  the  thick  Avall  of  the  bastion  near  the 
San  Bacolo  gate.  .  .  ." 

"  O  !  yes,  indeed !  "  answered  Inigo  ;  "  now  I  remem- 
ber him." 

"  Very  well ;  he  makes  the  fourth.  As  long  as  he  can 
hold  on  to  his  hands  he  will  know  how  to  use  them.  I 
will  be  the  fifth,  and  with  God's  help  I  shall  do  my  duty. 
Masuccio,  ..."  he  hallooed,  calling  on  his  favorite 
servant ;  "  look  to  the  thong  of  the  shield ;  it  was  broken 
yesterday;  have  it  mended  without  delay;  hear  me;  have 
the  broadsword  and  the  pistolese  dagger  well  sharpened, 
and  .  .  .  what  did  I  want  to  say  ?  .  .  .  Ah !  is  my 
Spanish  armor  in  good  order  ?  " — The  servant  nodded  an 
assent. 

Inigo  smiled  at  this  flurry,  and  remarked,  "  Thou  shalt 
have  plenty  of  time  to  get  ready ;  the  battle  will  not  take 
place  to-day,  nor  to-morrow  either." 

Fieramosca  did  not  think  of  that ;  he  felt  as  if  he  had 
the  fever,  and  did  not  wish  that  the  fight  should  be  put 
off  any  time ;  and  paying  very  little  attention  to  what 
the  Spaniard  was  saying,  he  kept  on  thinking  of  other 
champions,  because  he  thought  that  five  were  rather  a 
small  number.     Then  he  said,  with  great  emphasis, — 

"  Why  do  we  leave  behind  Romanello  da  Forli  ?  six  ; 
Lodovico  Benavoli ;  seven.     Thou  knowest  them,  Inigo ; 
thou  hast  seen  them  at  work  !  " 
"  Masuccio  !  Masuccio  ! " 

The  servant  who  had  gone  down  stairs,  ran  up  again. 
"  Let   my  war-horse,  Airone,  the  horse   that  Signor 
Prospero  gave  to  me, — let  him  have  straw  and  oats,  as 

3 


50  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

much  as  he  wants ;  and  before  it  is  too  hot  let  him  trot 
around  for  an  hour  ;  and  look  at  his  shoes." 

These  orders  were  given  while  Ettore  was  dressing. 
After  his  attendant  had  put  the  cape  on  his  shoulders, 
and  girded  the  sword  to  his  side,  he  put  on  a  hat  with  a 
blue  feather,  and  said  to  Inigo, — ' 

"  I  am  ready  to  go  with  thee.  Before  everything  else 
we  must  talk  the  matter  over  with  Signor  Prospero,  and 
then  we  will  ask  Gonzalo  for  a  pass." 

Thus,  as  they  went  on  their  way,  he  kept  on  mention- 
ing now  one  then  another  of  the  men-at-arms  who  might 
give  their  names  for  the  meeting.  In  fact  he  wjis  not  so 
very  easily  satisfied  at  once  ;  he  examined  most  closely 
the  condition,  the  power,  the  bravery,  the  life  of  every 
one,  as  he  wanted  only  tried  men  to  enter  the  lists.  He 
thought  of  Brancaleone  Eomano  more  than  of  any  one 
else ;  he  knew  him  to  be  a  most  honorable  man,  of  great 
heart,  and  wonderful  strength  of  body ;  he  liked  his 
sedate  ways,  so  different  from  the  giddy  cheerfulness  of 
his  comrades,  and  he  felt  so  much  friendship  for  him,  that 
more  than  once  he  was  on  the  point  of  disclosing  to  him 
his  adventures  with  Ginevra  ;  however,  natural  resei-ve, 
and,  perhaps,  the  want  of  an  opportunity,  had  prevented 
him  from  doing  so.  The  family  of  Brancaleone,  and  in 
fact  all  his  ancestors,  had  always  been  of  the  Ghibellines, 
and  in  Rome  had  adhered  to  the  Colonna  party ;  and  now 
among  the  troops  of  Signor  Fabrizio,  he  was  at  the  head 
of  some  body-guards,  and  paid  close  attention  to  this  as 
well  as  to  any  other  affair  connected  with  the  war.  He 
was  of  middle  height,  broad  shoulders,  large  chest,  of  not 
many  words,  and  strictly  minding  his  own  business ;  he 
was  resolute,  aye,  obstinate,  in  following  his  own  opinion ; 
and  as  he  had  nothing  more  at  heart  in  the  world  than 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  51 

the  increase  of  the  triumph  of  the  Colonna  party,  every 
other  object  appeared  to  him  not  worthy  thinking  of; 
hence  he  would  have  been  willing  to  let  himself  be  cut 
into  pieces,  if  thereby  he  could  advance  the  interests  of 
his  party. 

Ettore  and  Inigo  had  to  pass  by  his  door  on  their  way 
to  the  Colonnas.  They  found  him  standing  by  the  sta- 
bles, and  giving  directions  about  some  of  his  horses,  with 
his  sword  ungirded,  the  belt  twisted  around  the  hUt, 
pointing  to  the  squires  and  grooms,  and  giving  orders 
with  the  greatest  economy  of  breath.  Fieramosca  in- 
vited him  to  join  company  with  them  to  arrange  such 
affairs,  which,  although  told  with  the  warmest  terms,  were 
listened  to  by  Brancaleone  without  the  least  emotion  or 
change  of  countenance.  He  only  remarked,  as  he  moved 
along  with  them, — 

"  Trying  is  belief  even  to  the  blind.  Four  thrusts  in 
tierce,  after  my  fashion,  and  we'll  talk  it  over," 

This  assurance  of  his  was  no  bravado.  He  had  more 
than  once  fought  in  a  camp,  and  always  came  out  with 
awarded  honors. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

La  Motte's  words,  overflowing  with  so  much  insult- 
ing gall,  and  the  ensuing  challenge,  had  been  heard  by- 
more  than  twenty  persons,  and  could  not  be  kept  secret ; 
it  was  ah-eady  in  every  soldier's  mouth,  and  it  was  the 
topic  of  conversation  in  every  part  of  the  city.  "SYhen 
Inigo  and  the  two  Italians  had  reached  the  doors  of  Pros- 
pero  Colonna,  every  man  in  waiting  was  discussing  the 
merits  of  the  challenge ;  and  the  flower  of  Italian  youth 
had  flocked  already  around  their  chieftain  to  obtain  from 
him  advice  as  to  the  manner  in  which  they  should  act. 
Every  one  of  those  named  by  Fieramosca  were  there  al- 
ready, and  a  great  many  more  besides ;  in  a  very  short 
time  their  number  had  swollen  to  fifty.  Their  words  were 
full  of  indignation  and  magnanimous,  and  their  very  man- 
ner, their  countenance,  betrayed  too  well  how  much  the 
offered  insult  was  felt  in  their  hearts.  Several  of  the 
Spaniards,  who  had  been  at  the  supper  the  evening  before, 
and  who  had  reported  the  scene  to  their  Italian  friends, 
were  there  also,  and  mingled  in  the  crowd,  rehearsing 
now  one  expression,  then  another,  as  they  had  been 
uttered  by  Inigo  or  by  the  prisoners,  and  commented 
upon  them,  setting  out  their  views  on  the  matter,  quoting 
authorities  in  parallel  examples,  thereby  fanning  a  fire 
which  was  already  raging. 

This  crowd  was  scattered  pailly  on  the  steps  of  the 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  53 

main  entrance,  and  in  the  front  yard,  or  in  a  hall  in  the 
lower  story,  where  the  Colonna  brothers  attended  to  the 
affairs  of  the  company,  and  gave  audience  to  their  men- 
at-arms.  The  walls  were  all  around  decked  with  their 
armors  beautifully  inlaid  with  gold,  of  the  best  chiselling, 
polished  and  shining  like  mirrors.  The  standard  of  the 
company  was  kept  in  this  hall ;  it  bore  a  pillar  on  a  field 
red,  with  the  motto,  Columna  jlecti  nescio.  The  same 
arras  were  engraved  on  the  shields,  which  were  arranged 
in  graceful  order,  and  covered  almost  all  the  four  walls. 
At  the  end  of  the  hall  two  large  wooden  horses  supported 
complete  furnitures  with  saddles,  and  housings  of  beau- 
tiful crimson  velvet,  ornamented  with  the  family  coat-of- 
arms,  and  the  costly  bridles  richly  decked  with  reins 
embroidered  in  gold,  as  it  befitted  gentlemen  so  highly 
honored. 

On  a  rail  stretched  across  a  window  were  perched  six 
falcons  with  hoods  on  their  heads,  and  tied  to  small 
silver  chains,  with  a  quantity  of  implements  for  the 
chase,  which  was  so  much  indulged  in  by  the  aristocracy, 
and  which  was  considered  as  an  amusement  proper  for 
nobles  and  gentlemen.  After  a  few  moments  Signor 
Prospero  Colonna  presented  himself  at  the  door,  and  all 
gave  way  to  him  and  made  obeisance.  He  advanced, 
bowing  to  every  one  with  a  dignified  aifability,  and  took 
a  seat  on  a  large  elbow-chair  covered  with  red  leather,  at 
the  head  of  a  table  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  hall,  where 
he  kept  his  writing-desk,  and  beckoned  to  them  all  to  be 
seated. 

He  wore  a  cape  of  black  chamois  worked  with  ara- 
besque. A  heavy  golden  chain,  to  which  was  attached 
a  medallion  of  the  same  metal,  both  finely  chiselled,  hung 
around  his  neck. 


54  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

stuck  in  a  belt  of  black  beaten  steel.  His  admirable 
bearing  receiving  relief  from  this  simple  dress,  his 
countenance  pale  and  somewhat  dai'k,  a  high  forehead 
which  seemed  to  be  the  seat  of  firmness  and  of  more  than 
ordinary  wisdom,  inspired  every  one  with  that  reverence 
which  bespeaks  a  homage  paid  more  to  the  qualities  of 
the  soul  than  to  favors  of  fortune  or  birth.  His  eye- 
brows were  bushy,  his  beard  small  and  trimmed  in  the 
Spanish  fashion,  the  movements  of  his  eyes  slow  and 
guarded ;  altogether  you  felt  at  once  to  be  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  lord  powerful  and  of  great  authority. 

The  present  occasion  appeared  to  him,  and  was,  in  fact, 
one  of  very  great  importance,  not  only  because  the 
honor  of  the  Italian  arms  was  at  stake,  but  because, 
moreover,  the  issue  of  this  contest,  in  such  circumstances, 
when  a  war  was  carried  on  between  two  powerful  raon- 
archs  with  dubious  fortune,  might  be  fraught  with  serious 
consequences  to  him,  to  his  family,  to  the  Colonna  party. 
To  obtain  victory  in  a  challenge,  which  must  attract 
universal  attention,  would  enhance  the  fame  of  his  fol- 
lowers and  of  his  banner;  hence  whichever  party  should 
happen  to  be  victorious,  the  Spanish  or  French,  they 
would  ultimately  be  more  loath  to  give  him  offence,  and 
would  feel  greater  anxiety  to  secure  his  friendship. 
Moreover,  whoever  is  conversant  with  Italian  history 
knows  how  obstinate  the  strife  between  the  Colonna  and 
Orsini  factions  was  in  the  Roman  territory.  Both  parties 
had  been  ill-used  by  the  power  and  the  frauds  of  Alex- 
ander and  of  Cesare  Borgia,  and  both,  whether  by  foreign 
aid,  or  by  their  own  valor,  with  the  help  of  some  favor- 
able opportunity,  might  obtain  the  ascendency ;  conse- 
quently, if  there  ever  was  a  time  when  opportunity  was 
to  be  seized  by  the  forelock,  it  was  the  present. 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  55 

That  expert  leader  knew  the  ardent  soul  of  Fiera- 
mosca,  and  how  powerful  were  in  him  the  thirst  of  glory 
and  the  love  of  his  country.  He  had  often  seen  how  his 
words  had  fired  the  hearts  of  his  companions,  and  incited 
them  to  prove  themselves  true  Italians  ;  and  he  felt  how 
at  the  present  moment  he  might  encourage  them  with  his 
example,  and  with  his  words  add  fire  to  that  divine  ardor 
which  makes  man  equal  to  the  noblest  undertakings. 

To  him  therefore  he  addressed  himself  when  he  began 
to  speak  ;  he  said  he  had  already  been  made  acquainted 
in  part  with  what  had  taken  place,  but  he  wished  to  hear 
him  relate  the  whole  affair  in  detail,  that  they  might 
quickly  come  to  some  conclusion.  Ettore  gave  an  ac- 
count of  the  transaction,  putting  particular  stress  on  the 
language  held  by  Inigo  in  favor  of  the  Italian  nation. 
When  he  had  done,  Signor  Prospero  arose  and  spoke 
thus :  — 

"  Mustri  Signori !  Were  you  not  what  you  are,  and 
had  I  not  so  many  proofs  of  your  valor  through  the 
many  battles  we  have  fought  together,  I  would  deem  it 
necessary  to  recoil  to  your  minds  how  our  ancestors 
raised  by  their  noble  deeds  the  glory  of  their  country  so 
high  as  to  become  the  admiration  of  the  whole  world; 
the  dai"kness  and  the  misfortunes  often  centuries  could  not 
dim  the  last  rays  of  so  much  light.  Those  who  now 
come  from  the  other  side  of  the  Alps  to  drink  the  blood 
of  the  Italians,  and,  moreover,  add  insult  to  injury,  then 
trembled  at  the  very  mention  of  the  Roman  name.  I 
would  call  your  attention  to  the  fact  that  they  have  car- 
ried their  shameful  insolence  so  far,  that,  after  having 
torn,  by  such  ai'ts  as  God  alone  can  reckon,  the  glorious 
crown  which  rendered  Italy  the  queen  of  nations,  and 
had  been  gained  at  so  great  an  expense  of  labor  and 


56  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

blood,  they  still  think  that  they  have  done  nothing  so 
long  as  they  see  a  sword  in  our  hands  and  a  coat  of  mail 
on  our  breasts,  and  they  even  wish  to  deprive  us  of  the 
power  of  struggling  and  dying  for  the  protection  of  our 
honor.  I  would  say  to  you  :  Up  with  you ;  let  us  go,  let 
every  one  rush  to  arms ;  let  us  fall  upon  these  thieves 
who  have  no  regard  for  rights  and  justice ;  and  your 
looks  assure  me  that  your  swords  would  leap  in  advance 

of  my   word But,   still   ....   my   office   of 

leader,  which  on  this  important  occasion  becomes  to  me  a 
real  burden,  enjoins  upon  me  the  duty  of  checking  your 
valor,  and  I  feel  constrained  to  inform  you,  that  you  can- 
not all  join  in  the  combat,  and  I  shall  be  obliged  to  limit 
the  glory  of  our  vengeance  to  only  a  few  swords.  The 
Magnifico  Gonzcdo  has  to  uphold  the  rights  of  his  Cath- 
olic Majesty  with  unequal  forces,  and  will  not  permit  his 
soldiers  to  shed  their  blood  for  distracting  purposes.  I 
shall  be  able  to  obtain,  I  hope,  a  pass  and  free  camp  for 
ten  men-at-arms.  To  lose  no  time,  I  go ;  and  as  soon  as 
I  have  obtained  both,  I  will  return  to  you.  Now,  let 
every  one  of  you  who  will,  write  his  name  on  a  sheet  of 
paper ;  let  Gonzalo  make  the  choice.  But,  before  all,  you 
must  swear  that  you  will  abide  by  his  decision." 

Colonna's  address  was  received  with  marks  of  fervid 
approbation,  and  all  took  the  oath.  The  names  were 
written  and  given  to  Signor  Prospero,  who,  rising  from 
his  seat,  went  to  the  door,  where  two  squires  had  a  mule 
in  readiness  for  him.  He  mounted,  and  with  only  those 
two  attendants  rode  towards  the  citadel. 

He  returned  after  half  an  hour,  which  appeared  as  long 
as  an  age  to  the  impatient  anxiety  of  those  young  war- 
riors. Having  dismounted,  he  entered  the  hall,  and  all 
fell  back  to  the   seats  they  had  occupied  before.      The 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  57 

deep  silence  in  the  hall,  and  the  expression  of  the  eyes 
riveted  on  the  Roman  baron,  showed  how  anxious  they 
were  to  know  the  chosen  ones,  and  how  every  one  hoped 
to  be  on  the  list. 

"  Magnifico  Gonzah"  said  Signor  Prospero  at  last, 
taking  the  papers  from  his  bosom,  and  laying  them  on 
the  table,  "  has  expressed  himself  very  much  pleased 
with  your  virtuous  resolution.  He  feels  confident  that 
the  undertaking  will  prove  an  easy  task  to  your  valor ; 
he  grants  a  pass  and  free  camp  for  ten  men-at-arms.  I 
had  to  work  hard  to  prevail  on  him  to  grant  such  a  num- 
ber; and  he  allows  it  only  in  consideration  of  the  im- 
portance of  the  matter." 

Then  opening  the  paper  which  contained  the  names  of 
those  who  had  been  chosen,  he  read  the  following :  — 

"  Ettore  Fieramosca."  The  youth  hearing  his  name 
called  at  the  head  of  the  list,  pressed  with  joy  the  arm 
of  Brancaleone  who  sat  near  by  him,  while  the  eyes  of 
every  one  were  turned  towards  him  with  such  a  look  as 
to  say  that  they  did  not  feel  as  if  they  could  contend  with 
him  for  the  first  place. 

"  Romanello,  from  Forli. 

"Ettore  Giovenale,  Roman. 

"  Marco  Carellario,  Neapolitan. 

"  Guglielmo  Albimonte,  Sicilian. 

"  Miale,  from  Troia. 

"  Riccio,  from  Parma. 

"  Francesco  Salaraone,  Sicilian. 

"  Brancaleone,  Roman. 

"  Fanfulla,  of  Lodi." 

Had  any  one  been  there,  who  did  not  know  the  men 
whose  names  had  been  called,  he  could  easily,  by  their  look 
of  satisfaction,  know  of  what  temper  were  those  who  had 
3* 


58  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

been  destined  to  the  noble  deed.  A  delicate  purple  color 
suffused  the  usually  pale  cheeks  of  Fieraraosca,  and 
while  he  was  talking,  the  auburn  mustachio  which  veiled 
his  upper  lip,  could  have  been  seen  quivering,  and  be- 
traying the  deep  emotions  of  his  heart.  At  last  he  had 
met  with  an  object  worthy  of  the  thoughts  which  were 
uppermost  in  his  mind.  Once  at  least,  he  thought,  the 
blood  of  Italians  will  flow  for  a  better  purpose  than  to  be 
continually  fighting  against  foreign  invaders.  If  some 
spirit  had  whispered  to  his  heart,  "  thy  people  will  ob- 
tain the  victory,  but  thou  shalt  die  in  the  struggle,"  he 
would  have  been  a  thousand  times  happy  ;  but  still  there 
was  well-grounded  hope,  aye,  even  a  certainty  of  gaining 
a  victory,  and  of  living  to  enjoy  it.  Then  he  thought 
how  their  return  would  be  heralded  with  honor,  and 
feasted,  and  crowned  with  joy,  —  how  seldom  it  is  that 
a  man  can  foretell  the  truth !  —  he  thought  of  the 
praises,  of  the  everlasting  glory  with  which  Italy  and  his 
name  would  be  hymned,  and  how  his  deai-est  friends 
would  be  proud  of  him.  At  this  moment  a  feeling  arose 
from  the  inmost  recesses  of  his  heart,  crossed  his  mind 
like  a  cloud,  and  veiled  for  an  instant  the  joy  which 
beamed  in  his  countenance ;  perhaps  foregone  miseries 
made  his  heart  feel  the  keen  pang  of  ominous  recollec- 
tions ;  but  it  was  only  for  a  moment.  Could  he  then 
have  anything  more  at  heart  than  the  arrangements  of 
the  battle  ? 

Gonzalo  had  appointed  Prospero  Colonna  marshal  of 
the  lists.  Then  the  duty  of  sending  the  challenge  de- 
volved upon  him ;  moreover  it  would  become  his  part  to 
place  his  men  on  their  horses,  to  see  that  there  should  be 
nothing  wanting  that  might  secure  the  victory,  and  to  be 
sure  that  the  contest  would  be  cai-ried  on  according  to 
just  and  proper  rules. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  59 

The  first  points  to  be  decided  were  the  day  and  the 
place.  It  was  then  the  first  of.  the  month ;  it  was  deter- 
mined that  the  combat  should  take  place  after  the  middle, 
so  as  to  give  time  for  necessary  preparations.  As  to  the 
place,  competent  men  would  be  detailed  to  select  the 
most  suitable  one. 

The  next  business  was  to  write  the  challenge,  which 
was  done  in  the  French  language,  and  given  to  Fiera- 
mosca  and  Brancaleone,  to  be  carried  to  the. French  camp 
the  same  day.  After  everything  was  thus  arranged,  Sig- 
ner Prospero  addressed  himself  to  the  ten  champions,  and 
spoke  thus :  — 

"  Your  honor,  knights,  stands  on  the  blades  of  your 
swords,  and  I  cannot  imagine  a  better  or  surer  place  for 
it.  For  this  very  reason  it  becomes  necessary  that  you 
should  pledge  yourselves  solemnly,  that  from  this  day  to 
that  of  the  fight  you  will  not  enter  upon  any  adventure, 
and  thus  avoid  any  danger  of  being  wounded,  or  of  meet- 
ing with  any  accident,  that  might  prevent  you  from  being 
on  your  horses  that  day  ;  and  you  know  very  well, 
that  if  such  thing  should  occur,  no  matter  how  it  hap- 
pened, great  blame  would  be  attached  to  our  party." 
They  all  thought  it  was  but  right  to  take  the  precaution, 
and  none  of  them  hesitated  to  accept  the  proposed  condi- 
tion under  oath. 

In  the  mean  time  those  who  saw,  with  great  chagrin, 
that  there  was  nothing  for  them  to  do  there,  had  left  the 
hall  one  after  another.  Only  the  ten  had  remained.  And 
they  also  went  their  way,  after  the  cartel  had  been  con- 
signed to  Fieramosca's  hands.  Then  he,  too,  with  Bran- 
caleone, went  home,  to  be  soon  ready  on  their  horses, 
and  start  for  the  French  airap. 

They  put  on  a  light  armor,  a  coat  of  mail,  with  sleeves, 


60  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

and  a  steel  cap,  and,  preceded  by  a  trumpeter,  they  rode 
towards  San  Bacolo's  gate,  which  led  to  the  French  en- 
campment. At  their  approach  the  portcullis  was  raised 
and  the  drawbridge  lowered,  and  they  entered  a  part  of 
the  suburbs  which  had  been  abandoned  by  the  inhabitants, 
and  which  had  been  burnt  and  half  destroyed  by  the 
recklessness  of  both  armies.  Having  traversed  the  sub- 
urbs, they  had  to  cross  some  gardens,  whence  the  road 
opened  into  a  highway  leading  to  the  camp,  which  they 
might  reach  in  a  few  hours'  travel.  In  the  suburbs  Ettore 
fell  in  with  some  women  scantily  covered  with  rags,  either 
leading  their  half-starved  children  by  the  hand,  or  carry- 
ing them  on  their  shoulders,  searching  in  those  dilapi- 
dated buildings  for  any  remnant  of  food  that  might  have 
escaped  the  gluttony  of  the  soldiers  who  had  sacked  the 
place ;  their  appearance  made  the  heart  of  the  youth 
bleed ;  and  not  having  wherewith  to  help  them,  he  could 
not  even  bear  the  sight,  and  so  spurred  his  horse  into  a 
brisk  trot,  and  gained  the  open  road. 

This  incident,  trivial  as  it  may  appear,  threw  a  gloom 
over  the  buoyant  spirits  of  Ettore;  and  the  intense 
joy  which  he  felt  at  the  approach  of  the  battle  was 
turned  into  equal  sadness ;  he  felt  more  keenly  grieved 
at  the  miseries  of  Italy ;  and  his  hatred  for  the  Fi-ench, 
who  were  the  cause  of  them,  received  a  new  impulse. 
He  could  not  help  expressing  to  Brancaleone,  who  rode 
by  him,  how  pained  he  felt  at  the  sufferings  of  these 
wretched  women ;  and  his  friend,  who  was  naturally  a 
charitable  fellow,  although  a  life  continually  exposed  to 
danger  and  in  the  midst  of  deeds  of  blood  had  given  him 
the  appearance  of  a  hardened  man,  felt  pity  for  them, 
and  sympathized  with  Ettore  over  their  sufferings. 

Fieramosca,  perceiving  his  softened  temper,  remarked, 
with  a  shake  of  the  head  :  — 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  61 

"  These  are  the  fair  gifts  we  receive  at  the  hands  of 
the  French ;  this  is  the  happy  state  of  things  brought 
on  by  them !  .  .  .  But  if  1  can  once  see  this  vile 
set  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alps  — "  .  .  .  And  he 
meant  to  add,  —  we  will  try  to  get  rid  of  the  Spanish 
also ;  —  but  he  remembered  that  he  was  in  their  pay,  and, 
so  breaking  off  suddenly,  he  ended  with  a  sigh. 

Brancaleone  thought  more  of  the  Colonna  party  than 
of  the  welfare  of  his  country,  and  could  not  fully  appre- 
ciate the  feelings  of  his  friend;  but  sympathizing  with 
them  to  a  certain  extent,  in  his  own  way,  he  answered : — 

"  If  we  could  succeed  in  routing  this  army,  it  would 
not  be  long,  perhaps,  before  we  could  taste  Signer  Vir- 
ginio  Orsino's  good  wines  ;  and  the  cellars  of  Bracciano 
would  at  last  be  cheered  by  a  Christian's  face ;  and  the 
smoke  from  the  camp  of  his  knaves  would  no  more  be 
seen  near  Palestrina,  Marino,  and  Valmontone ;  and  the 
denizens  of  those  places  would  not  be  so  often  roused  by 
that  accursed  war-cry :  Orso !  Orso !  but  .  .  .  pay- 
day does  not  come  every  Saturday ! " 

From  this  answer  Ettore  perceived  that  althougli  his 
friend  joined  in  the  wishes  of  his  own  heart,  still  he  was 
very  far  from  agreeing  with  him  in  his  own  motives,  and 
he  said  no  more.  They  went  on  for  a  time  without  ut- 
tering a  word  on  either  side. 

The  trumpeter  preceded  them  at  the  distance  of  a 
bow-shot. 

Our  reader  will  remember  the  hints  thrown  out  by  the 
French  knight  about  the  love-affairs  of  Fieramosca.  It 
was  the  first  time  his  companions  had  heard  of  it,  and 
they  felt  sorry  at  his  disappointments,  both  because  they 
all  loved  him,  and  because  a  young  man  who  does  not  con- 
ti'ibute  to  keep  up  and  increase  the  good  humor  of  the 


62  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

mess  to  whieh  he  belongs,  is  apt  to  become  a  kind  of  eye- 
sore to  the  company.  Now  while  in  the  morning  of  this 
day  the  affairs  of  the  challenge  were  discussed  in  the 
house  of  Signor  Prospero,  there  were  also  some  remarks 
made  in  connection  with  these  adventures,  and  Branca- 
leone  heard  them.  In  truth,  Brancaleone  was  very  little 
curious  about  other  people's  business,  but  after  they  had 
ridden  for  some  time  in  silence,  perceiving  that  his  com- 
panion was  in  so  melancholy  a  mood,  he  felt  pained,  and 
overcoming  his  natural  reluctance,  he  resolved  to  try 
whether  he  could  succeed  in  making  him  disclose  the 
cause  of  his  silence  ;  and  with  an  expression  of  affection- 
ate anxiety,  he  questioned  him  as  to  the  cause  of  his 
being  so  pensive.  And  he  did  it  with  so  much  tact  that 
he  gained  his  purpose.  Fieramosca,  on  the  other  hand, 
well  knew  how  entirely  he  could  trust  his  friend  ;  besides, 
the  misery  which  he  felt  loosened  his  tongue,  since  it 
becomes  very  easy  for  a  heart  torn  with  keen  passions 
to  reveal  a  secret.  Mildly  raising  his  eyes  to  his 
friend's  countenance,  he  began  thus :  — 

"  Brancaleone,  you  ask  to  know  that  which  I  have 
never  told  a  living  soul ;  and  I  would  not  tell  even  you 
(be  not  displeased  with  me)  did  I  not  think  that  I 
might  fall  in  the  battle  .  .  .  and  then  ?  .  .  .  what  would 
become  of  .  .  .  yes,  yes,  thou  art  a  true  friend  to  me, 
thou  art  a  just  man,  thou  shalt  know  all.  Tire  not  in 
hearing  me  at  length,  because  I  could  not  narrate  so 
many  and  strange  adventures  in  a  few  words." 

Brancaleone,  with  a  countenance  which  bespoke  the 
great  interest  he  felt  in  the  conversation,  encouraged  his 
friend  so  that  Fieramosca,  resolutely  repressing  a  sigh 
from  the  heart,  continued  ;  — 

"  You   well    know   that  when  we    first  heard   of  the 


ETTOEE   FIERAMOSCA.  63 

probability  of  a  war  from  the  Most  Christian  king,  who 
intended  to  make  a  descent  on  the  kingdom,  I  was  a 
yonth  only  sixteen  years  old,  and  was  in  the  service  of 
the  Moro.  I  took  leave  of  him,  and  felt  it  my  duty  to 
employ  my  life  in  the  defence  of  the  princes  of  Raona, 
who  had  been  our  rulers  for  so  many  years.  I  went  to 
Capua ;  they  were  levying  troops,  and  I  was  hired  and 
ordered  to  the  ramparts  of  the  city  by  Count  Bosio  of 
Monreale,  wlio  had  the  command  of  the  garrison.  The 
ammunitions  were  all  in ;  and  there  being  nothing  else 
to  do  for  the  present,  we  enjoyed  ourselves  for  some  time. 
Every  evening  we  met  at  the  quarters  of  the  Count,  who, 
having  been  a  great  friend  of  my  father,  held  me  in  place 
of  a  son.  Even  before  I  was  conducted  by  the  Duke  of 
Milan,  it  had  been  my  wont  to  resort  to  the  house  of  the 
Count ;  and  there  I  became  acquainted  with  a  young 
daughter  of  his  ;  and,  children  as  we  were,  without  under- 
standing ourselves,  we  loved  each  other  wonderfully. 
When  the  day  arrived  that  I  was  to  march  toward  Lom- 
bardy,  the  crying  and  adieus  were  beyond  imagination. 
I  remember  it  well,  I  rode  a  jennet,  the  best  I  ever  had, 
and  on  my  way  out  of  the  town,  I  passed  under  the  win- 
dows of  Ginevra  (such  was  her  name),- and  managing 
my  horse  with  great  gallantry,  I  saluted  her  with  my 
hands ;  as  it  was  just  the  peep  of  day,  without  her  father 
or  anybody  else  perceiving  it,  she  threw  to  me  a  blue 
scarf,  with  which  I  have  never  since  parted. 

"  But  all  this  was  mere  play.  During  a  whole  year  of 
my  absence,  my  affection  for  her  had  not  much  abated. 
As  I  am  going  to  tell  you,  when  I  returned,  and  again 
saw  Ginevra,  who  by  this  time  was  full  grown,  the  hand- 
somest lady  of  the  realm,  a  good  scholar,  and  so  fine  a 
player  on  the  Iflte  tliat  there   never  was  any  better ;  I 


64  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

could  not  prevent  myself  from  falling  desperately  in  love 
with  her.  She  well  remembered  the  days  of  my  boy- 
hood ;  and  seeing  me  now  honored,  and  enjoying  some 
fame  among  men-at-arms,  although,  prudent  as  she  was, 
she  did  not  wish  to  betray  her  feelings,  still  I  perceived 
too  well  that  she  loved  to  hear  me  tell  of  the  places  of 
Lomtardy,  of  the  battles  in  which  I  had  been,  and  of  the 
courts  and  manners  of  that  country  ;  and,  on  my  faith,  if 
it  was  pleasing  for  her  to  listen  to  me,  it  was  a  hundred 
times  more  pleasant  for  me  to  entertain  her.  Things 
went  so  far  that  we  could  not  live  apart  from  one  an- 
other. 

"  I  began  to  see  plainly  what  turn  things  were  likely 
to  take,  and  seriously  thought  of  the  troubles  which  we 
should  encounter.  "We  were  on  the  eve  of  a  war ;  woe 
to  him  who  is  embarrassed  with  ties  of  love  at  such  times  ! 
And  as  formerly  I  had  improved  every  opportunity  of 
being  in  her  company,  so  now,  resolving  upon  what  I 
thought  would  prove  the  best  for  both,  and  being  satisfied 
that  our  affection  was  not  children's  play,  I  summoned 
resolution  enough  to  avoid  any  show  of  love,  and  indeed 
tried  to  banish  it  from  my  heart.  Things  went  on  thus 
for  a  long  time.  But  that  struggle  inci'eased  my  love 
instead  of  lessening  it ;  and  while  I  endeavored  to  check 
it  in  my  exterior  manners,  it  went  on  working  within, 
and  almost  led  me  astray.  My  countenance  had  lost  its 
cheerfulness,  and  at  night,  no  matter  how  fatigued  I 
might  be,  I  could  not  sleep,  and  with  my  imagination 
continually  fixed  on  her,  I  felt  warm  tears  coursing  down 
my  cheeks  upon  the  pillow,  and  I  had  become  a  riddle 
to  myself. 

"  We  went  on  in  this  manner  for  several  weeks,  and 
I  was  in  such  a  state,  that  it  became  necessary  to  take 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  G5 

some  resolution.  You  guess  already  what  the  resolution 
was.  One  evening  about  sunset,  it  chanced  that  I  met 
her  alone  in  the  garden.  I  told  her  of  my  great  affec- 
tion, but  she  blushed,  and  without  uttering  one  single 
word,  left  me  there  in  great  sadness  and  in  a  condition 
worse  than  ever.  From  that  day  forward  she  seemed  to 
keep  at  a  distance  from  me,  and  scarcely,  if  ever,  spoke 
to  me  in  the  presence  of  others ;  I  could  not  endure  that, 
and  almost  despairing  under  the  weight  of  my  disap- 
pointment, I  made  up  my  mind  to  go  away  and  seek 
death  where  there  was  fighting.  Just  aj;  that  time  the 
company  of  the  Duke  of  San  Nicandro  was  passing  on 
their  march  to  Rome  to  join  the  Duke  of  Calabria,  and 
I  made  my  arrangements  to  go  with  them.  So,  without 
telling  her  of  my  plans,  I  tried  my  luck  once  more,  but 
she  held  out  in  the  same  manner.  .  I  was  then  obliged  to 
believe  that  what  I  fancied  was  love  on  her  part  was  only 
a  dream  of  my  imagination.  I  made  up  my  mind  alto- 
gether ; — it  was  in  the  evening,  the  Duke's  company  had 
halted  in  the  city,  and  were  to  march  the  following  morn- 
ing ; — I  made  every  arrangement  to  be  on  my  horse  next 
day.  As  usual,  I  went  to  spend  the  evening  with  Gi- 
nevra's  father ;  we  three  only,  w^ere  there,  and  sat  playing 
at  a  table ;  and  when  the  fit  moment  arrived  I  informed 
him  that  I  had  made  every  arrangement  to  leave  on  the 
morrow ;  that,  being  tired  of  that  idle  life,  I  wished  to 
take  part  in  the  wars,  and  begged  of  him  to  allow  me 
to  go.  While  the  Count  was  praising  my  resolution,  I 
kept  a  corner  of  my  eye  on  Ginevra,  to  see  how  she 
would  receive  the  information,  having  still  some  hope  in 
my  heart.  TJiink  how  I  felt  when  I  saw  the  color  of  her 
face  to  change,  and  her  eyes  redden  !  She  sliot  towards 
me  a  stealthy  look  which  spoke  a  deal  to  me.    I  felt  some 


66  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

doubt  as  to  giving  up  the  march,  but  I  knew  that  I  could 
not  do  so  with  honor  ;  and  I  was  obliged,  just  when  I  felt 
myself  to  be  the  most  contented  and  the  happiest  mortal, 
to  caiTy  out  my  unlucky  resolution ;  hence  all  my  mis- 
fortunes. 

"  Would  to  heaven  I  had  dropped  dead  when  I  first 
put  my  foot  in  the  stirrup  !  it  would  have  been  far  less 
evil  for  both  of  us. 

"  I  went  to  Rome,  ever  cursing  my  fate,  and  I  just 
arrived  when  King  Charles  entered  at  one  gate,  and  our 
men  were  beating  a  retreat  at  a  furious  rate  through  the 
other.  A  few  light  skirmishes  took  place,  and  I  advanced 
so  far  in  the  midst  of  some  Swiss,  that  I  was  left  for  dead, 
with  two  deep  wounds  inflicted  on  my  head  with  spon- 
toons.     I  lay  ill  of  those  wounds  for  a  long  time. 

"  I  had  received  those  wounds  near  Velletri ;  I  was 
carried  into  town,  and  there  I  remained  two  months  with- 
out ever  hearing  of  Ginevra  or  of  her  father,  and  only 
from  time  to  time  very  sad  reports  of  the  state  of  the 
kingdom  reached  us,  always  with  additions  made  by  the 
people  of  the  house  to  make  them  appear  worse,  and 
with  so  much  of  their  own  inventions  added  to  them,  that 
I  could  learn  nothing  with  any  degree  of  certainty. 

"  But  at  last  I  began  to  recover,  and,  anxious  to  get 
out  of  so  much  misery,  one  morning  I  mounted  horse,  and 
rode  to  Rome.  Everything  was  in  an  uproar  of  con- 
fusion there.  Pope  Alexander  had  not  shown  very  great 
friendship  to  the  King  on  his  passage.  But  the  affairs  of 
the  kingdom  were  almost  ruined,  and  an  alliance  between 
Moro  and  the  Venetians  being  on  the  tapis,  the  French 
would  consequently  be  forced  to  retrace  their  steps ; 
hence  he  was  very  much  alarmed,  and  strengthened 
Rome  and  the  castle  in  the  best  way  he  could.     As  soon 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  67 

as  I  alighted  I  went  to  pay  my  respects  to  Monseigneur 
Capece,  who  received  me  with  great  kindness,  and  would 
by  no  means  allow  me  to  remain  in  a  public  house, 

"  Meantime  the  tumult  in  Rome  was  on  the  increase, 
the  King's  vanguard,  composed  of  the  Swiss,  was  shortly 
expected,  and  the  citizens  were  exceedingly  affrighted, 
anxiously  looking  after  their  own  safety. 

"At  last  the  army  appeared.  Alexander  and  Duke 
Valentino  had  fled  to  Orvieto.  The  French  troops  were 
quartered  partly  in  the  city  and  partly  on  the  Prati  ;  * 
they  behaved  exceedingly  well  towards  the  citizens,  so 
that  all  began  to  feel  reassured.  After  a  few  days  the 
King  started  for  Tuscany ;  but  still  some  of  his  leaders 
kept  passing  through  Rome  at  intervals,  avoiding  thereby 
difficulty  in  obtaining  provisions.  Fears  had  almost 
ceased,  and  business  was  going  on  as  usual.  As  I  had 
no  peace  in  thinking  of  Ginevra,  as  soon  as  I  could  do  it 
with  decency,  I  took  leave  of  Monseigneur  Capece  to  re- 
turn home,  that  I  might  obtain  some  reliable  information  ; 
because  even  to  that  hour  I  had  never  met  a  person  who 
knew  aught  of  her. 

"  So  one  morning  I  started  before  daybreak,  with  the 
intention  of  riding  to  Citerna  before  night,  and  from  Via 
Julia,  where  Monseigneur  lived,  I  entered  Piazza  Farnese, 
taking  the  way  to  San  Giovanni's  gate.  At  the  Coliseum 
I  met  a  squad  of  Frenchmen  with  baggage  ;  and  as  I 
came  nearer  to  them,  I  saw  that  they  were  carrying  a 
litter  with  one  of  their  captains  on  it ;  he  seemed  to 
be  in  a  bad  plight,  as  the  bandage  around  the  temples 
showed  clearly  that  he  must  have  received  a  wound  in 
the  head.     After  turning  the  horse  one  side  to  keep  out 

*  A  large  tract  of  meadow  land  near  Castle  Sant'  Angelo,  and  be- 
tween the  Tiber  and  Monte  Mario. 


(58  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

of  their  way,  I  reined  in  to  look  at  the  man,  and  was 
startled  by  a  piercing  cry,  when,  looking  in  the  direction 
of  it,  I  saw  Ginevra  on  horseback,  riding  with  the  party 
on  the  other  side.  But,  oh  God  !  how  changed  she  was  ! 
It  was  a  wonder  I  did  not  fall ;  my  heart  felt  as  if  it 
might  burst  under  the  cuirass.  Still,  having  some  mis- 
givings as  to  the  real  state  of  affairs,  I  feigned  to  go  on 
my  way,  but  after  a  while  I  wheeled  around,  and  never 
losing  sight  of  them,  I  followed  the  train  to  their  quarters, 
with  the  worst  fears  in  my  own  mind. 

"  You  can  well  imagine  I  did  not  dare  to  make  my  ap- 
pearance at  Monseigneur's  house,  who,  by  that  time,  must 
think  I  was  many  miles  off",  and  much  less  I  dared  to  ap- 
pear before  Ginevra,  lest  I  should  hear  from  her  what  I 
could  never  bear  to  listen  to  ;  and  yet,  in  my  anxiety  to 
clear  up  matters,  I  did  not  know  what  to  do.  Borne  by 
the  horse,  who  was  still  bent  on  going  back  to  the  stables 
of  Monseigneur,  I  found  myself  in  Banchi  by  the  Chia- 
vica,  and  near  the  shop  of  one  Franciotto  della  Barca,  so 
called  from  his  trade,  which  was  to  transship  merchandise 
from  Ostia  to  Ripa  Grande.  He  was  an  intimate  friend 
of  mine,  and  he  advanced  to  meet  me.  I  dismounted, 
and  having  led  him  aside,  I  told  him  that  for  some  par- 
ticular reason  I  had  taken  leave  of  Monseigneur,  and  it 
was  necessary  I  should  keep  in  the  dark ;  at  this  he 
offered  me  a  cottage  he  had  in  Borgo,  and  carried  me 
there  immediately.  Then  I  made  up  my  mind  to  tell 
him  that  I  had  seen  a  damsel,  with  whose  family  I  was 
well  acquainted,  in  company  with  a  party  of  the  French ; 
and  that  I  was  anxious  to  know  how  she  had  fallen  into 
their  hands,  in  order  to  fly  to  her  rescue,  if  necessary ; 
and  after  having  pointed  to  him  the  place  where  she  had 
alighted,  I  begged  of  him  to  try  to  speak  to  some  of  the 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  69 

inenitils,  and  to  arrange  matters  so  that,  without  heing 
discovered,  I  might  obtain  some  information.  He  was  a 
cunning  fellow,  and  well  knew  how  to  comply  with  my 
request.  After  sundown  he  came  for  me,  and  brought 
me  to  a  tavern,  where  we  found  a  clerk  of  his,  who  had 
already  enticed  one  of  tlie  squires  of  that  French  baron, 
and  pledging  liim  freely  in  the  cup,  he  made  him  tell  the 
story,  and  we  arrived  there  just  in  time  to  hear  its  par- 
ticulars. 

"  Franciotto  very  easily  made  him  reveal  what  I  would 
never  have  wished  to  hear.  He  said,  that  as  they  ap- 
proached Capua,  they  met  with  a  desperate  resistance ; 
had  to  storm  the  place,  which  was  almost  entirely  sacked ; 
his  master  Claudio  Graiano  d'Asti  (this,  he  said,  was  his 
name)  entered  the  house  of  the  Count  of  Monreale  with 
a  band  of  soldiers ;  the  Count  had  been  wounded  in  the 
assault,  had  been  carried  home,  and  could  not  defend  him- 
self any  further;  Graiano,  on  entering  the  sick  man's 
chamber,  was  met  by  his  daughter,  who  on  her  knees 
pleaded  for  her  father  and  for  herself.  Graiano  looked 
churlish,  and  rather  bent  on  evil ;  but  the  Count,  rising  on 
his  elbow  as  well  as  he  could,  said  to  him  :  '  Take  to  your- 
self whatever  I  have  in  this  world,  and  take  this  daughter 
of  mine  for  your  wife ;  but  protect  her  honor  against  the 
hands  of  these  men.'  And  Ginevra,  fearing  for  the  life 
of  her  father  and  for  herself,  could  offer  no  resistance. 
Two  days  after  the  Count  died. 

"  I  bit  my  hands,  thinking  that  had  I  been  there,  she 
would  not  perhaps  have  fallen  in  that  ribald's  hands ;  but 
there  was  no  help.  I  left  the  place,  and  wandered  about 
the  city  the  whole  night  like  a  madman ;  and  more  than 
once  I  was  about  to  put  an  end  to  my  life.  It  was  only 
the  mercy  of  God  that  kept  me  from  doing  so.     The 


70  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

grief,  the  fluttering  of  the  heart,  were  such  that  my  words 
could  not  give  e%"en  a  faint  idea  of  ray  sufferings,  and  I 
felt  such  oppressive  sensations  in  the  chest  that  I  thought 
I  should  be  choked ;  and  unable  to  endure  a  life  so  pain- 
ful and  so  harrassed,  I  had  the  strangest  thoughts  and 
formed  the  most  insane  resolutions  in  the  world.  At 
times  I  resolved  to  kill  the  husband,  —  then  to  meet  death 
in  some  extraordinary  way  so  that  Ginevra  might  know 
that  I  had  come  to  that  for  her  sake ;  and  I  felt  a  relief 
in  the  idea  that  it  would  pain  her ;  and  while  passing 
from  one  exciting  idea  to  another  I  felt  as  if  I  were  los- 
ing my  mind.  I  went  on  in  this  way  for  sevei'al  days, 
until  one  evening  I  resolved  to  try  my  fortune.  Muffled  in 
my  cape,  disguised  as  much  as  I  could,  and  with  the  hood 
drawn  over  my  eyes,  I  went  to  the  door  of  her  house  and 
knocked.  A  sei-vant-maid  appeared  at  the  window  and 
asked  whom  I  wished  to  see.  '  Say  to  the  lady,'  I  answer- 
ed, •  that  a  gentleman  just  arrived  from  Naples  wishes  to 
speak  to  her ;  he  has  news  from  her  family.' — I  was  let 
in,  and  led  to  a  small  room  in  the  lower  story,  where  a 
very  faint  light  flickered  from  a  small  lamp.  I  was  in 
such  a  state,  that  for  awhile  I  felt  as  if  I  were  at  the 
entrance  of  heaven,  and  then  as  if  I  were  at  the  very 
gates  of  hell ;  and  the  inward  struggle  was  so  violent,  that 
I  felt  faint,  and  sank  into  a  chair.  I  was  kept  wait- 
ing only  a  few  minutes,  which  appeared  to  me  hke  ages. 
When  I  heard  the  tread  of  Ginevra's  feet  coming  down 
stairs,  and  the  rustling  of  her  gown,  it  seemed  as  if  my 
vital  spirits  forsook  me.  She  entered  and  remained  at  a 
little  distance,  looking  at  me  ;  and,  can  you  believe  it,  I 
remained  there  rivetted  to  the  spot.  I  could  not  speak, 
not  even  make  a  sign  ;  but  as  soon  as  she  had  recognized 
me,  she  uttered  a  cry  and  fell  senseless  on  the  floor.     Her 


ETTOKE   FIERAMOSCA.  71 

cry  and  fall  brought  me  to  my  senses ;  I  lifted  her  up,  and 
endeavored  to  assist  her  in  the  best  manner  I  could,  fright- 
ened as  I  was  at  the  danger  of  the  situation,  and  greatly 
alarmed  lest  I  should  be  found  there  alone.  I  sprinkled 
her  face  with  water  from  a  cooling  vase  near  by.  But  I 
believe  the  scalding  tears  which  fell  from  my  eyes  and 
covered  her  cheeks  had  more  virtue  than  the  water,  and 
recalled  her  to  consciousness.  1  could  do  nothing  else 
but  take  her  hand  and  impress  on  it  a  kiss  so  fervid  that 
I  felt  as  if  I  would  give  my  very  soul  for  her  deliverance. 
We  remained  thus  for  a  few  minutes  ;  at  last,  trembling 
all  over,  she  said :  '  Ettore,  if  thou  knewest  all  my  sor- 
rows !  .  .  .' 

"  '  I  know  them,  alas !  I  know  all ;  but  I  ask  for  no  other 
privilege  than  that  of  seeing  thee  occasionally  while  this 
life  of  mine  will  last.' 

"  In  that  moment  a  noise  was  heard  as  if  of  some  per- 
son moving  over  our  heads ;  my  blood  ran  cold  in  my 
veins  for  the  fear  of  being  found  there,  and  of  becoming 
a  source  of  new  sorrows  to  her.  I  took  leave  of  her,  not 
so  much  by  words  as  by  the  very  act  of  departing,  hur- 
ried away  from  the  room,  and  left  the  house  less  sad  and 
with  some  feelings  of  hope. 

"  Meantime  her  husband  was  still  suffering  from  his 
w^ound,  and  he  was  daily  visited  by  many  of  the  French 
gentlemen  and  prelates.  In  spite  of  the  intense  inward 
sufferings  betrayed  in  Ginevra's  features,  there  was  so 
much  expression  and  sentiment  in  her  admirable  counte- 
nance, which  was  always  very  handsome,  that,  tinted  as  it 
now  was  with  a  languid  paleness,  it  was  impossible  to  look 
at  her  and  not  be  impressed  by  it.  Her  youth,  her  man- 
ners, and  angelic  features  were  much  admired  by  these 
noblemen  and  had  become  the  general  topic  of  their  con- 


72  ETTORE   FIEKA.MU.SCA. 

versation,  so  that  even  Valentino  heard  of  it.  Strange  ru- 
mors were  atioat  about  the  Duke  in  Rome  at  that  time. 
Scarcely  one  month  had  elapsed  since  his  brother,  the  Duke 
of  Candia,  had  been  murdered  at  night  in  the  streets,  and 
he  was  charged  with  the  deed ;  then  of  a  sudden  he  threw 
the  purple  aside  and  took  up  the  profession  of  arms  en- 
tirely ;  and  the  general  accounts  of  his  life  were  so  extrav- 
agant, that  people  did  not  know  what  to  think  of  him. 
I  at  once  began  to  fear  lest  the  man  should  put  his  eyes 
on  Ginevra.  Unfortunately,  I  heard  many  disrespectful 
expressions  among  the  populace,  which  my  great  rever- 
ence for  her  made  me  feel  keenly  at  heart,  but  I  was 
forced  to  keep  down  my  resentment,  lest  I  should  reveal 
my  condition. 

"  Under  some  pretext  or  other,  I  had,  by  this  time,  gained 
admission  to  her  home,  and  had  been  introduced  to  that 
husband  of  hers  ;  and  although  it  was  a  sore  trial  to  see 
him,  still  I  would  have  suffered  that  and  a  hundredfold 
more  for  the  privilege  of  seeing  her  from  time  to  time. 
However,  except  in  that  first  interview  of  ours  in  the 
garden,  I  never  spoke  to  her  of  my  affection.  I  knew 
her  too  well,  and  I  knew  that  I  should  have  wasted  my 
breath. 

"  This  Graiano  d'Asti  was  of  that  sort  of  men  whom 
you  meet  by  the  dozen  at  every  corner  of  the  streets, 
neither  handsome  nor  ugly,  good  or  bad ;  an  excellent 
soldier,  it  is  true ;  but  he  would  have  served  the  Turk 
provided  he  gave  him  the  best  pay.  Ginevra's  wealth 
had  made  him  very  rich ;  and  he  set  on  her  the  same 
value  he  would  on  a  farm,  namely,  at  the  rate  of  the 
income. 

"  Many  weeks  had  rolled  by.  I  could  see  Ginevra  at 
night,  because  her  husband  had  not  the  least  suspicion  of 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  73 

me.  He  was  suffering  very  much  from  his  wounds,  which 
it  took  long  to  heal,  and  not  having  much  practice  in  love 
affairs,  he  had  very  different  thoughts  in  his  head  ;  hence 
I  was  in  her  company  more  than  before. 

"  Meantime  Valentino,  busy  in  levying  troops  previous 
to  his  descent  upon  Roraagna,  made  offers  to  Graiano 
d'Asti,  who  had  by  this  time  recovered  so  far  as  to  be 
able  to  be  on  a  saddle  again.  I  was  informed  of  the 
Duke's  proposal  to  Graiano,  and  they  came  to  terras  at 
once.  They  agreed  upon  a  squad  of  twenty-five  lances, 
and  Ginevra's  husband  thought  he  had  the  best  of  the 
bargain. 

"  One  evening  the  Duke  came  to  Graiano's  to  sign  the 
contract,  and  they  had  a  little  supper,  with  the  company 
of  several  French  prelates,  and  some  lances,  out  of  ser- 
vice, intending  to  take  pay  under  him  who  at  that  time 
was  willing  to  hire  anybody. 

"  I  had  some  thoughts  of  eni-oUing  in  order  to  follow  Gi- 
nevra's fortunes  with  those  of  Graiano,  still  I  cannot  say 
how  it  happened  that  I  took  no  steps  in  the  matter,  and  I 
did  not  even  go  to  the  house  that  evening.  I  went  wan- 
dering through  the  most  solitary  places  of  the  city,  it 
being  already  late  at  night,  with  my  mind  a  prey  to  the 
most  distracting  suspicions,  neither  could  I  get  rid  of  cer- 
tain presentiments,  the  most  unaccountable  I  ever  had. 
For  many  days  past  I  had  noticed  Ginevra  looking  worse 
than  usual,  and  now  and  then  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  there 
was  a  cloud  on  her  brow,  a  mystery  which  she  endeavored 
to  keep  buried  in  her  heart.  I  lived  that  night  out,  God 
only  knows  in  what  torments.  But  listen,  now,  and 
judge  for  thyself  whether  the  heart  does  not  sometimes 
foretell  events  in  truth. 

"  Next  day  I  go  to  her  house  towards  evening.     As  I 


74  ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA. 

approach  the  door,  I  hear  an  unusual  bustle  inside ;  a 
monk  from  Araceli,  who  had  been  ministei'ing  to  her,  is 
coming  out,  preceded  by  a  light.  I  rush  into  the  house  — 
a  cold  perspiration  seizes  me !  —  and  the  maid  says, 
'  My  lady  is  in  her  last  moments.' 

"  On  the  evening  previous,  she  had  swooned  after  sup- 
per, but  they  did  not  feel  much  alarmed  about  it.  She 
was  laid  down  on  the  bed,  was  wrapped  in  warm  clothes, 
and  becoming  more  easy  she  remained  so  until  morning. 
The  sun  was  already  high,  and  she  had  not  moved.  One 
Maestro  Jacopo  da  Montebuono,  who  dabbled  in  medicine, 
was  then  called  in,  and  he  found  her  almost  stiff  with  cold. 
That  wretch,  instead  of  having  recourse  to  the  most  pow- 
erful remedies,  only  gave  an  opinion  at  random,  enjoining 
that  she  should  be  kept  very  quiet.  But  returning  at  a 
late  hour,  he  was  frightened,  and  ciying  that  she  was  past 
all  hopes,  hurried  a  messenger  after  a  priest,  and  without 
knowing  how  to  help  her  and  conquer  tliat  inexplicable 
sickness,  shortly  after  the  Ave  Maria,  the  doctor  himself 
informed  the  distressed  family  that  she  was  dead." 

Here  they  came  in  sight  of  the  French  camp,  and  Et- 
tore  was  forced  to  interrupt  the  narrative.  The  herald 
advanced  winding  his  trumpet,  and  was  met  by  a  man  on 
horseback  asking  what  was  the  object  of  his  errand. 

As  he  became  acquainted  with  the  motive  of  their  jour- 
ney, he  reported  to  the  officer  on  guard,  who,  in  his  turn, 
as  he  saw  Gonzalo's  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Nemours  who 
commanded  the  troops,  ordered  Brancaleone  and  Fiera- 
mosca  to  halt  there,  until  leave  had  been  obtained  from 
the  Duke  for  their  entering  the  camp. 

He  offered  them  a  hut  which  served  for  shelter  to  the 
guards  of  the  post ;  but  our  two  friends,  learning  that  the 
captain's  lodgings  were  at  some  distance  yet,  determined 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  75 

to  stop  where  they  were,  until  the  messenger  had  returned 
with  an  answer. 

Near  by,  under  a  clump  of  oaks,  was  a  fresh  green 
sward,  which,  protected  by  the  boughs  of  the  trees, 
afforded  a  delicious  resting-place  in  those  burning  hours 
of  noon.  The  two  warriors  repaired  to  that  spot ;  and 
having  tied  the  horses  to  the  trees,  they  unhelmeted  their 
heads  and  sat  down  near  each  other,  leaning  their  should- 
ers against  the  trunks.  A  light  breeze  cooled  their  brows, 
so  one  resumed  his  narrative  with  more  spirit,  and  the 
other  listened  with  even  heightened  curiosity. 


CHAPTER  V. 

FiERAMOSCA  continued  his  story  in  these  words: 
"  Having  lost  Ginevra,  I  felt  as  if  it  were  all  over  with 
me.  I  left  that  house  with  my  eyes  so  stupefied  that  I 
could  not  shed  a  tear ;  and  in  fact,  but  for  that  which 
took  place  afterwards  I  could  not  now  tell  whither  I  went 
and  what  became  of  me  in  those  first  moments.  I  roamed 
like  a  mad  man,  feeling  like  one  who  is  dealt  a  two- 
handed  blow  from  a  spiked  club  on  the  helmet, — a  whiz- 
zing in  the  ears  at  first,  after  which  everything  seems  to 
spin  round.  Thus  unconscious  of  what  had  happened,  I 
passed  the  bridge  (Ginevra's  house  was  near  Torre  di 
Nona),  and  taking  the  way  up  Borgo  I  went  to  San 
Pietro's  piazza. 

"  That  most  faithful  friend  of  mine,  Franciotto,  having 
heard  in  part  of  my  misfortune,  went  out  to  look  for  me, 
and  found  me  on  the  stones  near  one  of  the  columns  ; 
how  it  happened  to  me  to  be  there  I  could  not  say.  I  felt 
two  arms,  which,  lifting  me  up  by  the  shoulders,  made 
me  sit  up.  I  started  then  and  saw  him  by  my  side.  He 
began  to  comfort  me  with  words  full  of  affection,  and  then 
I  began  by  degrees  to  recover  consciousness.  He  helped 
me  up,  and  with  much  labor  led  me  home,  where  he 
undressed  me,  and  put  me  to  bed,  and  sat  at  the  head 
of  it,  without  annoying  me  with  words  of  comfort  which 
would  have  been  entirely  out  of  place. 


ETTORE  FIEEAMOSCA.  77 

"  We  spent  that  night  without  a  word  on  either  side. 
I  was  seized  with  a  violent  fever  which  at  times  made 
me  quite  delirious ;  and  my  excited  imagination  made  me 
feel  as  if  a  huge  figure  clothed  in  heavy  armor  were 
bearing  all  its  weight  on  my  breast,  and  squeezing  the 
breath  out  of  me. 

"  At  last  a  flood  of  tears  came  to  the  relief  of  afflicted 
nature.  The  clock  from  the  castle  sounded  the  hour  of  ten, 
and  the  first  dawn  peeped  through  the  fissures  of  the  win- 
dows. Hanging  on  the  wall  over  my  head  was  my  sword, 
and  twisted  around  it  the  blue  scarf  which  Ginevra  had 
given  me  many  years  ago.  The  sight  of  it,  acting  like  the 
shaft  from  a  bow,  opened  an  avenue  to  my  tears,  which 
began  to  flow  in  torrents,  and  my  feelings  being  thus 
relieved,  my  life  was  spared.  I  wept  for  a  whole  hour 
without  ever  ceasing,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  was  born  again, 
and  I  could  listen  to  others  and  talk.  Assisted  by  good 
Franciotto,  I  passed  the  day,  and  towards  night  I  resolved 
to  get  up. 

"  As  I  was  fast  recovering,  I  revolved  in  my  mind  what 
was  to  be  done  in  so  great  a  misfortune ;  being  in  total 
despair  of  ever  being  able  to  live  any  longer,  and  reflect- 
ing that  if  I  allowed  my  grief  to  wear  me  out  thus  by 
degrees,  how  intolerable  that  kind  of  death  would  be, 
I  resolved  to  die  that  moment,  that  I  might  fly  after  that 
blessed  spirit.  And  as  I  had  come  to  that  conclusion  I 
very  foolishly  thought  I  had  made  a  great  gain,  and  felt 
more  at  ease. 

"  Franciotto  had  never  left  me  since  the  previous  even- 
ing, but  then  he  went  out  to  see  after  some  business  in 
the  ship,  and  promised  to  be  back  in  a  few  moments. 
Laying  my  hand  on  the  rapier  —  this  identical  one  you 
see  at  my  side  —  I  thouglit  to  consummate  the  deed  on 


78  ETTORE  FIEBAMOSCA. 

the  spot.  But  then  remembering  that  GInevra  was  to 
be  buried  that  same  evening,  I  wished  to  see  her  once 
more.  Then  throwing  my  clothes  around  me  in  a  hurr}', 
and  girding  on  the  sword,  and  taking  with  me  the  blue 
scarf,  the  only  good  that  was  left  to  me,  I  went  out. 

"  As  I  had  passed  over  the  bridge,  I  met  the  funeral. 
The  friars  of  the  Eegola  proceeding  in  pairs,  and  with 
them  several  associations  of  brethren  singing  the  mis- 
erere, entered  Via  Julia  towards  Ponte  Sisto;  the  bier 
was  covered  with  a  pall  of  black  velvet. 

"  Believe  me,  I  did  not  feel  the  least  frightened  at  that 
sight;  and  thinking  that,  if  not  in  life,  we  should  be 
together  at  least  after  death,  that  we  were  travelling  on 
the  same  journey,  and  that  one  room  would  shortly  re- 
ceive both  of  us,  I  followed  them  full  of  melancholy  joy, 
with  my  thoughts  altogether  in  another  world,  without 
knowing  whither  I  was  led.  Having  passed  over  Ponte 
Sisto  into  Trastevere,  we  entered  the  church  of  Santa 
Cecilia. 

"  The  bier  was  laid  down  in  the  chapel  in  which  is 
the  tomb  of  the  son  of  Santa  Francesca  Romana.  I 
kept  on  one  side,  leaning  against  a  wall,  while  the  clergy 
were  performing  the  last  burial  service.  The  final 
Requiescat  in  pace  was  heard  for  the  last  time. 

"  All  went  away  in  deep  silence,  and  I  remained  there 
alone  almost  in  darkness,  only  one  lamp  burning  before 
the  shrine  of  the  Madonna.  I  heard  at  a  distance  the 
subdued  noise  and  the  tread  of  the  people  going  home. 
At  that  moment  one  o'clock  struck,  and  the  sacristan, 
walking  up  and  down  the  aisles  and  shaking  the  bunch 
of  keys,  was  about  to  leave  the  church. 

"  As  he  passed  by,  he  saw  me,  and  said,  — '  we  shut 
up ; '  — '  and  I  am  going  to  stay,'  —  was  my  reply.     He 


ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA.  79 

looked  at  me,  and  with  a  motion  like  one  who  recognizes 
somebody,  added : — 

" '  Ai*t  thou  the  Duke's  man  ?  thou  hast  been  too  much 
in  a  hurry  ....  the  door  will  be  left  ajar;  and  as 
thou  art  here,  I  will  go  about  my  business.'  And  say- 
ing no  more,  he  left. 

"  I  did  not  pay  much  attention  to  him ;  still  those 
words  made  me  start,  but  could  not  exactly  define 
whether  he  or  I  were  dreaming.  What  about  the  Duke  ? 
and  the  door  ajar  ?  What  does  the  knave  mean  ?  — 
these  were  the  thoughts  of  my  mind. 

"  Still  >'ery  far  from  the  real  state  of  things,  and  not 
fit  to  reason  much  in  those  moments,  I  soon  fell  back  on 
my  former  resolution,  and  after  a  short  interval  (all  was 
still  around)  I  approached  the  bier  with  the  sadness  of 
death  in  my  frame. 

"  Having  removed  the  pall  that  covered  it,  and  draw- 
ing my  rapier  which  was  stout  and  sharp,  I  began  to  pry 
open  the  coffin ;  it  cost  me  a  deal  of  labor  to  raise  the 
heads  of  the  nails  with  the  help  of  that  only  tool  I  had  ; 
still  I  worked  so  perseveringly  that  I  succeeded  in  rais- 
ing the  lid. 

"That  handsome  body  dressed  in  the  whitest  linens 
was  wrapt  in  a  shroud.  Before  I  died  I  wished  to  see 
that  ftngel's  face  once  more.  I  knelt,  and  by  degrees 
I  raised  the  veils  which  seemed  to  deny  that  comfort  to 
me.  Having  removed  the  last  bandage,  I  saw  Ginevra's 
countenance ;  it  looked  like  a  statue  of  wax.  Trem- 
bling all  over  I  placed  my  face  near  her's,  and,  almost 
by  stealth,  feeling  as  if  I  were  doing  something  wrong,  I 
could  not  help  kissing  her  lips.  There  was  a  quiver  on 
those  lips.  I  almost  died  on  the  spot.  '  Can  thy  mercy/ 
I  said,  '  O  Almighty  God,  go  so  flir ! '     And  I  put  my 


80  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

hands  to  her  wrists.  The  beating  of  my  heart  almost 
took  the  breath  from  me.  The  pulse  gave  signs  of  life. 
Ginevra  was  alive  ! 

"  But  just  imagine  how  frightened  I  was  finding  my- 
self alone  there  in  those  circumstances.  If  she  comes 
to,  I  thought,  and  finds  herself  in  this  place,  the  fright 
will  be  enough  to  kill  her.  I  did  not  know  how  to  act, 
and  I  was  almost  frantic.  With  open  arms  I  turned 
towards  the  Madonna,  and  prayed, — 

" '  0,  true  mother  of  God  !  grant  me  only  to  save  her, 
and  I  swear  to  thee,  before  thy  own  Divine  Son,  that  my 
thoughts  are  bent  only  on  good  purposes.' 

"  And  I  pledged  my  own  heart  in  a  solemn  vow,  that 
I  would  never  ask  of  her  aught  that  would  be  dishonor- 
able, if  I  could  succeed  in  saving  her ;  and  I  vowed  to 
banish  totally  and  forever  from  my  mind  any  thought  of 
putting  her  husband  to  death,  a  resolution  which  I  had 
for  a  long  time  entertained,  determined  to  carry  it  out 
some  time  or  other. 

"  The  compassionate  help  of  God  did  not  fail  to  respond 
to  a  prayer  that  came  so  truly  from  the  heart. 

"  My  Franciotto  who,  as  I  have  said,  had  gone  out, 
saw  me,  on  his  return,  taking  the  way  to  the  bridge,  and 
judging  the  truth  in  part,  and  fearing,  as  he  told  me 
afterwards,  lest  I  should  take  some  rash  resolution,  he 
had  followed  me.  But  being  full  of  discretion,  he  al- 
ways guarded  against  speaking  to  me  or  annoying  me 
in  such  moments,  well  knowing  that  I  did  not  need 
advice,  but  help  at  the  proper  moment.  He  entered  the 
church  with  the  rest,  and  he  had  ensconced  himself  in  a 
dark  corner ;  and  he  has  repeatedly  told  me  since  that, 
when  he  saw  me  laying  my  hands  on  the  rapier,  he  was 
in  the  act  of  falling  upon  me,  and  kept  on  the  wing,  that 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  81 

he  should  not  be  too  late ;  but  when  he  saw  that  I  was 
only  endeavoring  to  open  the  coffin,  he  held  back,  and 
only  at  this  moment,  as  he  saw  the  necessity  of  it,  he 
made  himself  known.  I  heard  the  tramp  of  his  feet,  as 
I  had  uttered  my  prayer ;  I  turned  around  and  saw  him 
at  my  side.  As  I  was  on  my  knees,  even  so  I  embraced 
his  knees,  as  of  one  who  came  to  restore  two  lives  at 
once,  and  as  of  an  angel  come  from  heaven  to  my  res- 
cue. Then  arising,  I  began  to  reflect  how  we  might 
with  the  most  ease  carry  the  woman  quietly  thence.  At 
last  we  took  the  velvet  pall  which  had  covered  the  bier, 
and  having  turned  it  inside  out,  so  that  in  case  she  came 
to  her  senses  she  might  not  know  in  what  lugubrious 
clothes  she  was  lying,  and  arranging  the  winding  sheets 
and  bandages  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  the  best  couch 
possible,  very  carefully  we  raised  her  from  the  bier,  and 
very  softly  laid  her  on  those  folds. 

"  The  unfortunate  Ginevra  had  not  opened  her  eyes, 
only  broken  sighs  issued  from  her  bosom.  Franciotto 
went  to  fumble  in  some  closets,  and  fortunately  found  the 
cruets  used  for  mass,  and  placing  the  narrow  beak  at  her 
lips  succeeded  to  make  her  swallow  some  drops  of  wine 
and  so  comfort  her ;  but  very  little  was  given  to  her,  and 
only  with  a  view  to  help  her  strength,  as  we  did  not  wish 
her  to  return  to  herself  in  such  a  place.  Then,  I  at  the 
head  and  Franciotto  at  the  feet,  we  took  the  two  extremi- 
ties of  the  cloth,  with  the  greatest  care,  lifted  her  up,  and 
without  any  accident,  as  our  Blessed  Lady  was  with  us, 
carried  her  out  of  the  church,  and  through  San  Michele 
we  reached  Ripa,  where  the  boats  are  moored.  With 
the  rest  there  was  one  belonging  to  Franciotto.  At  that 
moment  we  did  not  know  where  to  find  a  better  place  and 
more  protected.     We  put  Ginevra  on  board  of  it ;  and 

4* 


82  ETTOEE    FIERAMOSCA. 

with  the  help  of  two  or  three  men  who  guarded  the 
bark,  having  made  up  a  bed  in  the  cabin  as  well  as  we 
could,  I  sat  by  her  while  Franciotto  ran  for  a  physician,  a 
friend  of  his,  a  good  man  and  trusty,  that  he  might  come 
to  assist  and  bleed  her  if  necessary. 

"  He  had  to  pass  by  Santa  Cecilia.  As  he  arrived  at 
the  church  he  saw  a  squad  of  armed  men  who  had  halted 
before  the  entrance,  and  at  first  he  took  them  to  be  the 
patrol.  He  endeavored  to  go  as  near  them  as  possible, 
keeping  close  to  the  wall,  until  he  succeeded  in  hiding 
himself  in  a  favorable  position  near  them,  and  saw  that  it 
was  not  the  patrol  after  all.  They  were  about  thirty  men, 
having  partly  pikes  and  partly  long  swords,  for  two  hands. 
At  some  distance  he  saw  a  litter  carried  by  two  men. 
And  he  who  appeared  to  be  the  leader  kept  an  anxious 
look  towards  the  church,  muffled  in  a  cloak  and  impa- 
tiently changing  his  position  from  one  foot  to  another. 
By  and  by  two,  who  looked  like  menials,  came  out  of  the 
church,  and  approaching  him,  one  said :  '  Eccellenza,  the 
coffin  is  pri^d  open,  and  empty.' 

"  There  was  great  power  in  the  words  ;  and  His  Excel- 
lency, unfolding  his  mantle  at  once,  with  a  lantern  he 
held  under  it,  lodged  such  a  blow  on  the  messenger's  head 
as  to  send  him  sprawling  on  his  back ;  and  the  other 
knave,  had  he  not  taken  to  his  heels,  would  have  got  the 
worse,  as  that  man  had  his  hand  already  on  the  hilt  of 
the  sword.  He  stormed  a  great  deal,  but  at  last  he  had 
to  leave  in  bitter  disappointment. 

"  Franciotto  had  espied  in  the  crowd  a  man  with  cape 
and  mantle  dressed  in  a  lawyer's  garb,  and  by  the  light 
of  their  lanterns  he  knew  him  to  be  that  great  ruffian 
Master  Jacopo  daMontebuono.  The  presence  of  such  a 
man  and  in  such  circumstances  gave  rise  to  dark  sus- 
picions in  Franciotto's  mind. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  83 

"As  the  squad  moved  on  its  way  he  followed  at 
some  distance,  and  instead  of  going  after  a  doctor  lie 
made  some  design  on  said  Maestro  Jacopo.  He  only 
feared  that  he  might  request  some  of  the  soldiers  to 
escort  him  to  his  house.  But,  as  it  pleased  God,  when 
they  had  reached  Ponte  Sisto,  as  he  lived  at  the  head  of 
the  Via  Longara,  he  parted  company  with  them  and 
took  the  shortest  way  home,  while  the  soldiers  went  over 
the  bridge.  Franciotto  overtook  him  under  the  arch, 
and  having  assured  him  that  there  was  nothing  to  fear, 
he  begged  of  him  to  go  with  him  to  Ripa  Grande,  whei'e 
a  young  woman  was  struggling  with  death ;  and  he 
pleaded  the  cause  so  well,  that  at  last  he  succeeded  in 
bringing  him  along. 

"As  he  entered  the  cabin,  he  at  once  recognized 
Ginevra  and  myself,  and  he  felt  that  he  had  fallen  in  a 
trap.  Franciotto  took  me  aside,  and  related  to  me  all  he 
had  seen  opposite  Santa  Cecilia,  and  what  he  had  heard, 
and  I  began  to  compare  data  and  reflect ;  at  last  the 
bandage  fell  from  my  eyes,  and  I  was  enabled  to  under- 
stand how  matters  stood.  I  closed  upon  Master  Jacopo ; 
I  threatened  the  man,  who,  after  all,  was  the  greatest 
coward  in  the  world,  and  I  made  him  reveal  everything. 
He  informed  me  that,  by  order  of  Valentino,  he  had, 
on  the  evening  of  the  supper,  given  the  woman  some 
medicated  wine,  which  had  thrown  her  in  a  stupor,  and 
to  help  the  deceit,  he  had  pronounced  her  dead,  so  that 
the  Duke  might  go,  after  she  had  been  carried  to  the 
church,  and  carry  her  to  his  house. 

"  It  seemed  Hke  a  miracle  that  a  plan  so  well  concocted 
had  been  bafiled ;  and  think  how  I  thanked  God  from 
my  heart. 

"  Then  I  looked  Maestro  Jacopo  full  in  the  face,  and 


84  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

told  him :  '  Hear  me,  Master  Jacopo,  I  might  lay  you 
down  dead  with  this  rapier  of  mine,  but  I  will  spare  your 
life  on  the  only  condition  that  this  woman's  life  be  saved  ; 
hence  set  quickly  to  work  if  you  wish  to  return  alive  to 
your  people.  But  if  you  ever  mention  to  a  living  soul 
how  this  affair  has  ended,  I  shall  kill  you  like  a  dog,  be 
sure  of  it.' 

"  The  frightened  doctor  promised  every  thing,  and 
went  about  his  work  in  good  earnest ;  therefore,  with  the 
advice  of  Franciotto,  we  loosened  the  bark  from  the 
mooring,  and  we  went  down  the  river  to  Magliana,  a  few 
minutes  after  the  clock  had  struck  the  hour  of  five. 

"  The  good  master  never  breathed  a  word  about  the 
transaction. 

"  Meanwhile  Ginevra  had  been  restored  to  herself;  and 
having  opened  her  eyes,  she  turned  them  around  with  an 
affrighted  look.  For  my  part,  being  now  sure  that  she 
was  alive,  and  feeling  as  if  I  had  wrought  a  miracle, 
kneeling  at  the  head  of  her  bed,  I  was  pouring  thanks  to 
God  from  my  heart.  She  had  been  comfortably  lodged 
in  a  little  room  of  the  keeper  of  the  vineyard. 

"  After  awhile,  whilst  I  was  holding  one  of  her  hands, 
on  which  I  pressed  now  my  forehead,  and  at  times  my  lips, 
she  withdrew  it,  and  parting  my  hair  which  fell  on  my 
face,  she  looked  staringly  at  me.  At  last  she  broke  out 
in  these  words  :  '  Is  it  not  thee,  Ettore,  mine  ?  .  .  .  But 
how  are  we  here  ?  .  .  .  This  is  not  my  room  ...  I  am 
in  another  bed.  .  .  .  Oh !  God  !  .  .  .  what  has  hap- 
pened? .  .  .' 

"  At  this  moment  Franciotto,  who  now  and  then  came 
to  the  door  to  see  how  she  was,  made  his  appearance. 
Ginevra  screamed,  and  throwing  herself  upon  me  all  in 
a  tremor,  said :  '  Help,  Ettore,  thei*e  he  is  !  there  he  is  ! 


ETTORE  FIERAAIOSCA.  85 

0  most  holy  Mothei-,  help  me.'  I  endeavored  to  quiet 
her  in  the  best  manner  I  could,  but  to  no  use ;  and  she 
appeai'ed  to  be  so  much  afraid  of  good  Franciotto,  that 
her  eyes  looked  as  if  actually  starting  from  their  sockets. 

1  knew  the  mistake,  and  said  to  her,  *  Ginevra,  be  quiet ; 
it  is  not  the  Duke,  but  a  most  dear  friend  of  mine,  who 
loves  you  as  much  as  he  does  himself.' 

"At  these  words  you  would  have  seen  her  dismiss 
all  fear,  and  turn  towards  Franciotto  with  very  pleas- 
ing manners,  as  if  she  wished  to  offer  amends.  Ah! 
how  in  my  heart  I  cursed  that  infamous  villain  ! 

"  Then  Ginevra  began  to  beg  of  me  to  explain  to  her 
how  she  had  come  here,  and  I  to  beg  of  her  to  be,  for  the 
present,  satisfied  with  trusting  in  me  ;  to  think  only  of  her 
health  which  needed  rest ;  and  I  said  so  much  that  I 
succeeded  in  quieting  her ;  and  towards  morning  she  took 
a  restorative  and  slept. 

"  But  I  slept  not.  I  knew  too  well  that  it  was  folly  to 
hope  that  she  would  remain  with  me,  and  that  in  spite  of 
me  and  of  herself,  she  would  return  to  her  husband  as 
soon  as  her  strength  would  allow  her.  Hence,  I  sent 
Franciotto  to  Rome  in  great  haste  to  know  how  things 
stood  there,  and  what  was  the  talk  of  the  city  about  the 
adventure  of  the  night. 

"  Towards  night  he  eame  back,  bringing  news  that 
Valentino  had  taken  up  the  march  with  his  troops  towards 
Romagna,  and  had  taken  Graiano  and  his  men-at-arms 
with  him.  It  was  not  known  at  what  place  he  would 
commence  operations. 

"  I  told  Ginevra  of  it,  and  infox'med  her  at  last  of  all 
that  had  occurred ;  she  was  very  much  troubled  in  her 
mind,  and  did  not  know  what  to  resolve.  I  laid  before 
her  at  great  length  the  reasons  why  she  ought  not  to 


86  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

think  of  returning  to  Rome,  where  Valentino  might  very 
easily  find  her  out  and  mend  the  mishaps  of  the  former 
attempt ;  that  her  husband,  wrapped  up  as  he  was  in  the 
conduct  of  the  war,  and  a  creature  of  the  Duke,  could 
scarcely  be  of  any  protection  to  her,  had  he  even  wished  it ; 
and  then  how  could  she  trace  him  out  ?  I  besought  her, 
with  the  warmest  affection,  that  she  would  not  go  against 
the  almost  plain  will  of  God,  who,  through  ways  so  ex- 
traordinary had  brought  her  away,  and  had  ransomed 
her  from  a  situation  surrounded  by  so  many  snares  and 
dangers  ;  that  she  ought  to  reflect  that  leaving  tfie  place, 
in  consequence  of  her  supposed  death,  we  might,  without 
any  suspicion,  go  where  she  might  at  least  wait  free  and 
tranquil  to  see  how  her  fortunes  and  her  husband's 
would  turn  ;  and  with  a  warmer  sense  of  faith,  I  added 
these  words,  full  of  determination, — 

" '  Ginevra  !  I  swear  to  our  Blessed  Lady  that  thou 
shalt  remain  with  me,  as  thou  wert  under  the  protection 
of  thy  mother.'  Franciotto  also  came  to  my  aid  ;  so  much 
so,  that  Ginevra  at  last,  after  many  sighs,  and  finding 
it  difficult  to  overcome  a  certain  remorse  which  troubled 
her  exceedingly,  said  to  me  :  '  Ettore,  thou  shalt  be  my 
guide  ;  it  behooveth  thee  to  show  that  Heaven,  and  none 
else,  hath  sent  thee  to  me.' 

"  This  resolution  being  fomied,  I  addressed  a  few 
words  more  to  the  Master,  with  my  hand  on  the  rapier, 
and  then  I  sent  him  to  Rome  with  Franciotto,  from  whom 
I  parted  with  inexpressible  sorrow.  We  went  on  board 
a  vessel  with  the  few  things  we  had  with  us,  and  leav- 
ing Magliana,  sailed  down  the  river  to  Ostia,  whence  we 
coasted  all  the  way  to  Gaeta.  The  kingdom  was  over- 
run by  the  French,  with  whom  Valentino  was  allied,  and 
I  did  not  feel  safe  until  I  was  a  thousand  miles  away 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  87 

from  them.  Hence  I  made  tlie  utmost  haste  to  leave 
those  shores,  being  careful,  however,  not  to  fatigue  Gi- 
nevra  with  too  much  travelling ;  and,  as  it  pleased  God, 
one  evening  we  landed  safe  and  sound  in  Messina. 
With  a  most  sincere  and  overflowing  heart,  I  thanked 
God  that  he  had  led  us  out  of  so  many  dangers." 

As  Fieramosca  had  reached  this  point  of  his  history, 
he  perceived  some  mounted  men  moving  from  the  camp, 
and  riding  towards  them  ;  and  he  added  : — 

"A  great  deal  more  is  left  to  tell  thee  ;  those  fellows 
are  coming,  and  I  have  not  the  time.  But  to  conclude  ; 
we  tarried  very  near  two  years  in  Messina.  Ginevra 
took  her  lodgings  in  a  convent,  and  I,  who  passed  for  her 
brother,  visited  her  often. 

"At  that  time  the  war  between  the  French  and  the 
Spaniards  broke  out.  After  all,  I  felt  ashamed  of  a  life 
which  seemed  to  me  so  unworthy  of  a  soldier  and  of  an 
Italian. 

"  Bound  as  I  was  by  the  vow  pledged  at  Santa  Cecilia, 
I  could  not  expect  that  our  affections  would  meet  a  vir- 
tuous end. 

"  All  Italy  was  in  a  blaze  of  war ;  the  French  ap- 
peared to  be  the  stronger  of  the  two  parties ;  and  aside 
from  my  love  for  my  country  which  impelled  me  to  fight 
the  most  dangerous  foe,  I  had  an  old  grudge  against  the 
French  for  their  many  acts  of  insolence.  Moreover,  to 
be  candid  with  thee,  I  imagined  there  would  be  more 
security  for  Ginevra  under  the  protection  of  the  Spanish 
flag,  where  Valentino  could  not  reach  her. 

"  Ginevra,  high-minded  as  she  was,  approved  of  these 
reasons ;  and,  notwithstanding  her  affection  for  me,  she 
could  not  bear  that  I  should  be  left  behind,  when  there 
was  fighting  for  the  good  of  Italy,  and  our  minds  were 


88  ETTOEE  FIEEAMOSCA. 

made  up  firmly.  Signer  Prospero  was  levying  troops  for 
Gonzalo ;  I  wrote  to  him,  and  was  enrolled  under  his 
standard. 

"  Signor  Prospero  was  then  quartered  at  Manfredonia  ; 
so  we  left  Messina  and  crossed  the  sea.  On  the  passage 
we  met  with  a  most  extraordinary  adventure. 

"  We  had  entered  Taranto ;  and,  having  rested  there, 
we  left  the  harbor  one  morning  to  sail  on  to  Manfredonia. 
A  dense  fog,  such  as  generally  visits  those  waters  in  May, 
hung  over  the  sea,  and  our  bark,  with  two  lateen  sails 
and  twelve  oars,  swiftly  glided  over  the  smooth  waters. 
At  noon  we  were  overtaken  by  four  ships,  within  a  mus- 
ket shot,  and  we  were  hailed  to  heave-to.  At  first  I 
thought  to  run  from  them ;  and  I  could  have  done  it, 
because  we  were  at  the  windward ;  but  then  thinking 
that  with  their  artillery  they  might  do  us  harm,  I 
tacked,  and  complied. 

"They  were  Venetian  vessels,  coming  from  Cyprus, 
and  were  carrying  Catarina  Comaro,  the  queen  of  that 
island,  to  Venice.  Satisfied  as  to  whom  we  were,  they 
did  not  annoy  us,  and  we  kept  on  our  journey  following 
on  their  track. 

"  Night  had  already  set  in ;  the  fog  had  become  more 
dense,  and  I  blessed  my  luck  in  meeting  them,  as  we  could 
steer  after  them  without  danger  of  missing  our  course  in 
so  much  darkness. 

"  About  midnight,  Ginevra  was  asleep,  and  only  two 
men  were  on  the  watch,  to  man  the  sails  and  steer  the 
vessel ;  but  even  they  fell  in  a  doze  now  and  then.  I 
was  sitting  on  the  prow,  sleepless  and  musing.  Around 
reigned  the  profoundest  stillness.  I  thought  I  heard  the 
tramp  of  some  men's  feet  on  the  upper  deck  of  the 
queen's  vessel,  which  was  only  at  the  distance  of  a  bow- 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  89 

shot  from  us ;  I  heard  them  talking  in  a  subdued  tone  of 
voice,  but  the  words  sounded  full  of  excitement  and 
anger ;  I  strained  my  hearing,  and  distinctly  heard  a 
woman's  voice  mingling  with  theirs,  and  she  seemed  to 
appeal  for  mercy ;  sobs  and  cries  followed  at  intervals,  as 
if  there  was  an  effort  made  to  stifle  them.  At  last  I 
heard  a  splash  in  the  water  like  of  a  body  falling  into  the 
sea.  Having  my  doubts  and  fears  aroused,  I  strained  my 
eyes,  and  something  of  a  white  color  appeared  to  me 
afloat  and  struggling ;  I  plunged  into  the  water,  and  with 
four  strokes  or  so  I  swam  to  it,  and  grasping  the  hem  of 
a  dress,  took  hold  of  it  with  my  teeth  and  swam  back 
to  our  bark  drawing  a  body  after  me.  My  men  had 
started  at  the  noise ;  they  helped  me  on  board  and  the 
person  who  was  with  me.  It  was  a  damsel  dressed  only 
in  night-clothes,  her  hands  bound  with  a  merciless  rope, 
and  she  gave  no  sign  of  life.  With  some  effort  at  last 
she  revived.  We  held  back  at  some  distance  from  the 
Venetians,  but  they  did  not  seem  to  mind  us  at  all.  We 
took  in  the  sails  and  waited  for  daybreak.  With  the 
rising  of  the  sun  the  weather  cleared  up,  and  we  reached 
Manfredonia  in  a  few  hours ;  there  I  found  Signor 
Prospero,  and  I  lodged  Ginevra  with  the  rest  at  the 
tavern. 

"  Now  thou  wouldst  like  to  know  who  the  rescued 
damsel  was,  but  I  cannot  give  thee  satisfaction,  because 
I  do  not  know  it  myself.  She  could  never  be  prevailed 
upon  by  Ginevra  or  myself  to  give  any  account  of  her 
adventures.  She  was  born  in  the  East,  and  is  a  Saracen, 
most  undoubtedly ;  she  is  one  of  the  most  correct  and 
loyal  women  in  the  world  ;  at  the  same  time  she  is  fierce 
and  bold,  fearless  of  blood  or  swoi'ds,  and  in  the  face  of 
danger  she  is  more  of  a  man  than  a  woman.     From  that 


90  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

day  to  this  she  has  always  remained  with  Ginevra ;  and 
I  have  induced  the  Abbess  of  Sant'  Orsola  to  receive 
them  both  in  her  monastery,  where,  owing  to  its  vicinity, 
(while  the  war  keeps  us  shut  up  in  Barletta,)  I  can  visit 
them  often." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Frenchmen  who  were  to  escort  the  messengers  to 
the  camp  had  arrived,  and  the  two  friends  arose,  untied 
their  horses,  and  went  with  the  soldiers. 

They  went  through  long  lines  of  tents  and  barracks, 
surveying  as  they  advanced  the  manners  of  those  who 
crowded  on  the  paths  to  know  the  why  and  wherefore  of 
their  coming;  and  having  made  their  way  through  a 
throng  of  soldiers,  they  came  upon  a  square  enclosed  by 
pavilions  arranged  in  a  circle,  in  the  centre  of  which  stood 
that  of  the  captain-general.  Already  the  flower  of  the  ca- 
porali  of  the  army  had  gathered  together ;  the  messengers 
alighted,  and  were  introduced.  After  a  courteous  but  short 
greeting,  two  camp-stools  were  brought  in,  and  they  took 
their  seats  on  them  with  their  backs  to  the  entrance. 

The  tent  was  quadrangular,  lined  with  blue  drapery 
oi'namented  with  golden  lilies,  and  it  was  arranged  in 
two  square  apartments,  of  equal  dimensions,  divided  by 
slender  columns  of  wood  inlaid  with  blue  and  gold.  At 
the  upper  end,  covered  with  a  leopard  robe,  was  the 
bed,  and  two  big  greyhounds  were  lying  asleep  under- 
neath. At  a  short  distance,  a  stand  upholding  a  forest 
of  vials,  brushes,  golden  chains,  and  jewelry,  surmounted 
by  a  mirror  of  polygonal  shape,  set  in  a  frame  of 
chased  gold,  a  clear  proof  that  the  genteel  Duke  did  not 
disdain  to  pay  attention  to  the  cares  of  a  toilette.     It  is 


92  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

true,  a  dandy  of  our  days  would  have  in  vain  looked  for 
a  bottle  of  Eau  de  Cologne,  but  he  would  have  found 
a  good  substitute  for  it  in  two  large  gilt  vases,  one  of 
which  was  labelled  Eau  de  Citrehon,  and  the  other 
Eau  Dorec.  Armors  of  different  forms  were  hanging 
from  the  columns,  resting  upon  hooks,  lances,  and  pikes, 
horizontally  suspended  from  pillar  to  pillar,  arranged  like 
ti'ophies. 

In  the  centre  sat  Louis  d'Armagnac,  Duke  of  Nemours, 
Viceroy  of  Naples,  chosen  by  Louis  XII.  commander-in- 
chief  of  that  war.  He  was  dressed  with  a  blue  cape 
lined  with  sable-skin,  and  his  noble  countenance  beamed 
with  youth,  boldness,  and  knightly  courtesy.  D'Aubigni, 
Ivo  d'Alegre,  Bayard,  Mgr.  de  la  Palice,  and  Chande- 
nier  stood  at  his  side,  and  all  around  were  barons  and 
knights  of  minor  grade,  who  formed  a  crowd  in  the  midst 
of  which  Ettore  and  Brancaleone  found  themselves. 

The  second  of  the  two  knew  better  how  to  handle  a 
sword  than  to  make  a  speech,  and  so  he  left  to  Fiera- 
mosca  the  duty  of  explaining  the  nature  of  their  errand. 

The  youth  arose,  and  turning  around  with  a  rapid 
look,  which  flashed  with  a  boldness  void  of  insolence,  as 
it  behooved  such  place,  such  hearers,  and  the  subject  of 
his  address,  he  told  of  La  Motte's  insult,  explained  the 
terms  of  the  challenge,  and  to  comply  with  the  usual 
forms,  having  unfolded  the  brief,  he  loudly  read  the 
following  words : — 

Haut  et  puissant   Seigneur   Louis  d'Armagnac 
DUG  DE  Nemours. 

Ayant  apprins  que  Guy  de  La  Moihe  en  presence  de 
D.  Inigo  Lopez  de  Ayala  a  dit  que  les  gens  d'armes 
Italiens  etoient  pauvres  gens  de  guerre  ;   sur  quoi,  avec 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  93 

votre  hon  plaisir,  nous  respondons  quHl  a  meschamment 
menti,  et  mentira  ioutes  fois  et  quant  quHl  dira  telle  chose. 
Et  pour  ce,  demandons  qiCil  vous  plaise  nous  octroyer  le 
champ  a  toute  ovirance  pour  nous  et  les  nostres,  contre  lui 
et  les  siens,  a  nomhre  egal,  dix  contre  dix. 

Die  VIII  Aprilis  MDIII. 

Prospero  Colonna. 
Fabritio  Colonna.* 

After  he  had  read  the  brief,  he  threw  it  down  in  the 
midst  of  the  assembly,  at  the  feet  of  the  Duke ;  and  Bay- 
ard, having  with  the  speed  of  the  lightning  unsheathed  his 
sword,  picked  it  up  with  the  point  of  it.  Ettore  had  made 
a  little  pause  in  his  speech,  and  as  he  was  at  the  point  of 
concluding  it,  his  attention  was  attracted  by  a  well-pol- 
ished and  brilliantly  shining  shield  which  hung  before 
him,  and  reflected  the  image  of  those  who  stood  behind 
his  shoulders.  He  perceived  in  it  the  image  of  Graiano 
D'Asti.  That  sight  disconcerted  him ;  and  turning  around, 
he  saw  there  standing,  two  steps  from  him,  listening  with 
the  rest,  the  husband  of  Ginevra.  Such  a  discovery,  so 
sudden  and  unforeseen,  unnerved  him,  and  almost  disabled 
him  from  giving  to  the  conclusion  of  his  speech  that  point 
and  strength  which  it  was  his  wish  to  impart  to  it.  Those 
who  were  not  in  the  secret  of  Ettore's  adventures,  attrib- 

*  To  the  high  and  powerful  Lwd  Louis  d'Armaf/nac,  Dulce  of  Nemours : 
We  have  been  informed  that  Guy  de  La  Mothe  has  said  in  presence 
of  D.  Inigo  Lopez  de  Ayala  that  the  Italian  men  of  war  are  poor  sol- 
diers on  the  battle-field;  to  this,  witli  your  good  pleasure,  we  do  reply 
that  he  has  villanously  lied,  and  he  will  lie  every  time,  and  as  long  as 
he  shall  repeat  the  same.  And  for  this  purpose,  we  request  that  it  be 
your  pleasure  to  grant  us  a  free  camp  for  a  trial  of  ourselves  and  ours, 
against  him  and  his,  with  equal  numbers,  ten  on  each  side. 

Pkospeo  Colonna. 
Api-il  8th,  1503.  Fabritio  Colonna. 


94  ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA. 

uted  this  accident  to  motives  far  different  from  the  true 
ones,  thus  doing  great  wrong  to  the  honor  of  Fieramosca. 
Some  amongst  the  French  warriors  even  smiled,  and 
others  whispered  in  their  neighbor's  hearing,  that  there 
was  not  much  to  fear  from  such  who  seemed  to  faher 
at  the  very  name  of  a  fight.  The  youth  noticed  both 
the  acts  and  the  words,  and  felt  his  cheeks  burning  with 
the  fire  of  disdain ;  but  he  reassured  his  mind  with  the 
thought,  "  let  them  try,  and  see  whether  I  fear." 

The  Duke's  reply  was  not  wanting  in  either  words  or 
arrogance,  and  the  more  so  that  he  also  had  been  led 
from  the  change  of  countenance  to  impute  timidity  to  the 
Italian. 

The  parley  was  over  in  a  few  minutes,  and  the  two 
messengers  were  accommodated  with  refreshments  for 
themselves  and  their  horses  in  tents  near  by. 

Graiano  had  also  recognized  Fieramosca  ;  and  when 
they  had  left  the  Duke's  quarters,  he  followed  him.  He 
approached  and  saluted  him  with  that  careless  and  un- 
meaning countenance  indicating  one  who  valued  the  gifts 
of  fortune  more  than  those  of  virtue ;  he  had  known 
him  in  a  poor  condition,  and  he  did  not  think  he  had 
bettered  himself  much  since  they  had  met.  "  0 !  "  said 
he,  «  Sir  John.  .  .  .  No,  Sir  Matthew.  .  .  .  The  devil ! 
I  cannot  remember  it.  .  .  .  Well,  it  makes  no  differ- 
ence. And  so,  those  who  do  not  die  see  each  other 
again,  eh ! " 

"  Just  so,"  answered  Fieramosca,  who,  in  spite  of  the 
generosity  of  his  chai*acter,  could  not  check  a  feeling  of 
disappointment  in  seeing  a  man  whom  he  thought  to  be 
in  another  world,  still  living,  and  the  just  and  rightful 
possessor  of  her  whom  he  loved  above  his  life.  He 
manfully  strove  to  add  something  to  that  dry  "just  so," 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  95 

but  to  no  use,  and  kept  silent.  Graiano  was  not  a  man 
to  understand  these  half  colors  ;  seeing  that  the  conver- 
sation was  likely  to  drop  there,  he  added : — 

"  And  so,  what  are  we  about  ?   We  go  for  Spain,  eh  ?  " 

These  questions,  in  the  plural  number,  sounded  to 
Ettore  rather  too  malapert ;  and  he  answered : — 

"  What  are  we  about  ?  You,  I  do  not  know.  I  am  a 
lance  in  Signer  Prospero's  service." 

"  Eh !  take  care  of  that  old  saying,"  answered  the 
Piedmontese  with  a  smile : — 

"  Orsini,  Colonna,  e  Frangipani 
Riscuoiono  oggi  e  pagan  domani." 

(Orsini,  Colonna,  and  Frangipani  collect  to-day,  and 
pay  to-morrow.) 

This  motto  Avas  very  common  among  the  Italian  sol- 
diers of  fortune,  and  it  arose  from  the  great  pressure  for 
money  in  which  the  barons  of  the  Campagna  Romagna 
often  found  themselves,  who,  therefore,  were  more  earn- 
est in  getting  what  belonged  to  others,  than  they  were 
prompt  in  paying  their  own  soldiers. 

Fieramosca  at  that  moment  was  not  in  a  mood  to  joke, 
and  so  he  made  no  reply.  However,  not  to  appear  un- 
courteous,  he  asked  him  about  his  life,  and  why  he  had 
left  the  Valentino. 

"  O  ! "  Graiano  answered,  "  because  that  man  expects 
too  much,  and  has  too  many  irons  in  the  fire ;  if  the 
Pope  should  die  to-day  or  to-morrow,  everybody  will 
pounce  upon  him,  and  will  make  him  pay  back  both  prin- 
cipal and  interest.  Well,  the  less  said  of  that  gentleman 
the  better.  Now,  I  am  settled  here,  and  I  am  so  well 
pleased  that  I  would  not  change  even  with  the  Pope." 

During  this  dialogue,  they  had  reached  the  tent  where 
luncheon  had  been  prepared.     When  they  had  finished  a 


96  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

hasty  repast,  and  the  cloth  was  removed,  they  were  re- 
called before  the  Duke  for  an  answer. 

The  reply  was,  of  course,  full  of  boldness  and  bragado- 
cio.  The  French  were  ready  to  fight ;  they  insisted  upon 
having  the  number  of  ten  increased  to  thirteen ;  which 
number  was  held  as  unlucky,  and  chosen  to  portend  mis- 
fortune to  the  Italians. 

A  sealed  letter  for  Gonzalo  was  given  to  the  messen- 
gers, and  accompanying  it  a  list  of  the  combatants  chosen 
on  the  part  of  the  French. 

Being  thus  dismissed,  they  returned  to  their  tent  to 
wait  for  their  horses.  Meantime,  many  flasks  of  wine 
were  brought  in  and  pledges  were  exchanged  in  com- 
pany with  many  knights,  among  whom  was  Bayard. 
Bayard  requested  Fieramosca  to  let  him  see  the  names. 
Ettore  took  the  paper  from  his  bosom,  and  gave  it  to 
him ;  then  all  pressed  closely  around  Bayard,  and  he  read 
the  following  names  :  — 

"  Charles  de  Tourges. 

"  Marc  de  Frignes. 

"  Giraut  de  Fosses. 

"  Martellin  de  Lambris. 

"  Pierre  de  Liaye. 

"  Jacques  de  la  Fontaine. 

"  Eliot  de  Baraut. 

"  Jean  de  Landes. 

"  Sacet  de  Jacet. 

"  Guy  de  la  Mothe. 

"  Jacques  de  Guignes. 

"  Naute  de  la  Fraise. 

«  Claude  Grajan  d'Asti." 

"  Claudio  Graiano  d'Asti  ! "  exclaimed  Fieramosca, 
staring  at  the  man  in  amazement. 


ETTORE  FIEEAMOSCA.  97 

"  Yes,  Claudio  Graiauo  d'Asti,"  he  answered.  "  Don't 
you  think  I  am  as  big  as  the  rest  ?  " 

"  But  tell  me,  Messer  Claudio,  do  you  know  why  this 
challenge  has  been  sent  ?  " 

"  "What  ?  am  I  deaf  ?  to  be  sure  I  know  it." 

"  Well,  then  you  know  that  the  Italians  have  been 
branded  as  poltroons  and  traitors  by  these  French,  and 
for  this  we  are  going  to  fight.  Now,  tell  me.  from  what 
place  do  you  hail  ?  " 

« I  hail  from  Asti." 

"And  is  not  Asti  in  Piedmont?  and  is  Piedmont  in 
Italy  or  France  ?  and  will  you,  an  Italian  soldier,  fight 
with  the  French  against  the  honor  of  the  Italians  ?  " 

Fieramosca's  eyes  sparkled  with  fire  as  he  spoke  these 
words.  He  would  have  used  stronger  terms,  but  he 
thought  of  the  vow  which  prevented  him  from  laying 
hands  on  that  fellow. 

Graiano,  on  the  other  hand,  whose  way  of  thinking 
was  a  thousand  miles  apart  from  that  of  Ettore,  could 
not  understand  what  all  these  questions  aimed  at.  He 
understood  him  at  last,  and  what  he  had  said  appeared 
to  him  as  the  most  absurd  thing  in  the  world ;  therefore, 
as  if  he  would  not  condescend  to  give  a  direct  and  sensible 
answer,  he  turned  to  his  comrades,  and  said  with  a  smile : 

"  O  !  hear  him  ;  hear  his  nonsense  !  One  might  sup- 
pose it  was  the  first  day  he  took  a  lance  in  his  hand  !  I 
care  not  a  fig  for  the  Italians,  Italy,  and  those  who  love 
it ;  I  serve  those  who  pay  me,  so  I  do.  Don't  you  know, 
my  clever  boy,  that  a  soldier's  country  is  that  from  which 
he  receives  his  pay  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  not  clever  hoy  ;  my  name  is  Ettore  Fiera- 
mosca,"  answered  Ettore,  who  could  not  contain  him- 
self any  more ;  "  and  I  know  nothing  of  these  poltroon 


98  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

sentiments  of  yours.  And  if  it  was  not  "...  and  here 
his  hand  involuntarily  ran  to  the  sword,  but  he  withdrew 
it  immediately ,_  and  went  on  speakmg  with  such  a  con- 
traction of  features  as  we  perceive  in  those  who  are 
forced  to  swallow  a  bitter  morsel. 

"  One  thing  I  cannot  stand,  by .     How  can  you, 

noble  gentlemen,  and  you,  Sir  Bayard,  the  first  man  in 
the  world  in  our  profession,  and  the  most  loyal,  and  the 
most  honest  of  all,  how  can  you  all  "stand,  hearing  this  Ital- 
ian casting  such  shame  into  the  face  of  his  country  ?  But 
everybody  knows  that  there  are  traitors  in  every  nation." 

"  Thou  art  the  traitor ! "  thundered  the  Piedmontese. 
Both  drew  their  swords,  but  did  not  unsheath  them  en- 
tirely, as  many  from  both  sides,  rushing  between,  held 
them  back,  and  made  them  remember  that  messengers 
neither  could  receive  nor  offer  affront.  The  uproar  and 
the  tumult  was  very  great ;  but  Bayard's  voice,  which 
drowned  all  the  rest,  restored  peace  and  order  among  all, 
and  Graiano  was  dragged  away  by  mam  force. 

Fieramosca,  as  he  replaced  the  sword,  and  rammed 
it  in  heavily  with  the  palm  of  his  hand  turned  to  Bayard 
and  offered  an  apology  for  what  had  taken  place.  The 
latter  placed  both  his  hands  on  his  shoulders  and  looked 
at  him  fixedly  in  the  face,  so  that  the  youth,  half  abashed, 
lowered  his  eyes  ;  after  remaining  thus  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, he  kissed  his  brow,  and  said  :  — 

^^  Benoiste  soil  lafemme  qui  vous  porta."  (Blessed  be 
the  woman  who  bore  thee.)* 

An  hour  after,  the  drawbridge  of  Barletta  was  low- 
ered, to  receive  Ettore  and  Brancaleone  on  their  return. 

*  Oh !  how  many  anch  youths  are  now  mowed  down  for  the  love 
of  their  country  on  the  bloody  fields  of  Lombardy ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 

During  that  morning,  which  had  been  spent  by  the 
Italians  in  preparing  themselves  for  the  fight,  the  travel- 
lers, whom  we  have  left  on  the  previous  evening,  occu- 
pying the  upper  part  of  the  Sun  Tavern,  had  not  been 
idle.  Their  name  is  a  secret  for  every  one,  except  for 
the  capo-quadra  Boscherino,  but  it  shall  be  no  secret 
for  our  readers.  One  of  them  was  Cesare  Borgia,  Duke 
of  Valenza,  whereby  he  obtained  the  name  of  Valentino, 
and  the  other  Don  Miguel  de  Corrella,  one  of  the  lead- 
ers of  Borgia's  band. 

It  would  be  falling  very  far  from  the  truth  to  compare 
these  two  ribalds  to  the  most  obnoxious  animals,  most 
hostile  to  every  living  being.  The  latter  act  from 
instinct,  and  instinct  has  its  defined  limits.  But  what 
restraint  from  evil  can  be  placed  on  hearts  full  of  per- 
versity, and  led  by  minds  of  diabolical  astuteness,  en- 
dowed with  power  and  valor  —  because,  unhappily,  not 
all  rascals  are  cowards  —  and  with  immense  resources  ? 

The  son  of  Alexander  VI.,  the  terror  of  Italy  and  of 
all  ItaUans  who  had  gold,  domains,  or  handsome  women, 
found  himself  almost  alone  in  a  poor  dwelling,  in  the 
midst  of  a  crowd  that  would  willingly  buy  at  the  price 
of  their  lives  the  satisfaction  of  wrecking  their  vengeance 
upon  him. 

Those  who  cannot  understand  how  much  security  can 


100  ETTORE   FIEEAMOSCA. 

be  felt  by  a  spirit  of  strong  temper,  united  to  a  cool  and 
calculating  judgment,  will  call  this  assurance  the  boldest 
temerity.  But  the  Duke  knew  himself  well ;  and  balanc- 
ing on  one  side  the  danger  he  might  incur,  and  on  the 
other  the  gain  he  could  obtain  from  a  visit  to  Barletta, 
he  found  that  the  probabilities  were  in  his  favor. 

He  undertook  this  journey  for  two  reasons.  One  was 
to  find  out  Ginevra,  who  he  had  good  reason  to  believe 
was  with  Fieramosca;  and  if  we  cannot  make  up  our 
mind  to  believe  tlaat  this  man  cared  for  her  more  than 
for  any  other  woman,  we  are  at  least  sure  in  saying  that 
he  was  sharply  stung  at  the  idea  of  having  been  made 
game  of.  The  other  was  a  political  reason ;  and  in  order 
that  our  readers  may  have  a  clear  idea  of  this  part  of 
our  history,,  it  becomes  necessary  to  call  their  attention  to 
the  dark  features  of  the  pohtics  of  those  times. 

The  power  of  the  Borgia  family  had  sprung  up  with 
the  elevation  of  Rodrigo  Lenzuoli  to  the  See  of  Rome ; 
and  through  the  influence  of  eveiy  kind  of  arms  and  re- 
sources, of  frauds,  of  intermarriages,  and  with  the  help 
of  France,  it  had  acquix'ed  so  much  strength,  that  every 
prince,  every  republic  in  Italy,  was  in  dread  of  it.  Cesare 
had  at  first  been  made  Cardinal ;  but  then,  dissatisfied  with 
his  situation,  made  up  his  mind  to  secure  to  himself  alone 
the  inheritance  of  his  father,  and  to  obtain  the  guerdon  of 
crimes  committed  by  joint  perversity.  The  only  ob- 
stacle thrown  in  the  way  of  his  ambition  was  the  Duke  of 
Candia,  his  brother,  Gonfahniere  of  the  Church,  for  whom 
the  Pope  had  reserved  some  principality  in  Italy.  A 
stiletto,  hired  by  Cesare,  or,  as  some  others  say,  wielded 
by  his  own  hand,  cut  off  this  obstacle  one  night.  A  poor 
man,  who  was  at  tlie  watch  on  one  of  the  coal  barks  at 
Ripetta,  saw  three  men  coming  towards  the  river;  one 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  101 

on  horseback,  —  it  was  the  Duke ;  the  body  of  his  brother, 
laid  behind  him,  was  held  by  two  men  at  the  head  and  at 
the  feet,  across  the  back  of  the  horse ;  they  threw  it  in 
the  Tiber,  then  washed  the  horse,  which  was  stained  with 
blood,  and  disappeared  through  a  dark  lane. 

A  month  after  this,  the  Duke  doffed  the  purple,  and 
was  on  his  horse  at  the  head  of  an  army.  Partly  by 
force  and  partly  by  treason,  he  was  soon  in  possession  of 
Faenza,  Cesena,  Forli,  Romagna,  and  part  of  the  Marche, 
Camerino,  and  Urbino.  But  his  way  of  making  conquests, 
and  of  holding  possession  of  the  ill-gotten  domains,  —  the 
evils  he  had  inflicted  on  so  many  were  such,  that  he  was 
hated  by  all,  and  only  an  opportunity  was  wanted  to  give 
vent  to  this  general  feeling.  That  opportunity  might 
present  itself  in  two  different  ways,  either  by  the  death 
of  his  father,  or  by  losing  the  support  of  France.  The 
Pope's  age,  and  the  unreliable  success  of  the  French 
arms  in  Italy,  admonished  him  that  it  was  necessary  to 
secure  support  to  his  personal  cause  from  other  quar- 
ters when  the  present  should  fail. 

With  an  eye  that  could  espy  any  practice,  and  pry 
into  the  closest  of  hearts,  he  at  once  saw  the  real  condi- 
tion of  things  in  Italy.  He  well  knew  the  impetuous  ar- 
dor of  the  French,  who  were  more  apt  to  carry  a  day 
than  to  endure  the  ennui  of  a  long  and  fruitless  war. 

He  felt  how  much  Gonzalo  could  abate  their  ascend- 
ancy in  Italy.  He  knew  the  Spaniard  had  become  ter- 
rible for  his  valor,  prudence  and  perseverance,  and  was 
very  likely  to  crush  the  beauty  of  the  hlies.  He  thought 
it  would  be  wise  to  make  some  overtures  to  him,  in 
order  that  he  might  have  a  new  resource  when  his  old 
friends  might  abandon  him.  But  so  delicate  a  matter, 
and  such  that  if  the  French  knew  of  it,  he  would  have 


102  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

been  ruined,  could  not  be  committed  to  any  one's  trust. 
For  this  reason  he  had  left  Sinigaglia  clandestinely,  and 
had  gone  to  Barletta. 

It  was  an  hour  before  day  when  Valentino,  whose  iron 
constitution  scarcely  needed  any  rest,  called  Don  Miguel, 
who  was  hearkening  lest  he  should  be  wanted,  and  giv- 
ing him  a  letter,  said :  — 

"  This  to  Gonzalo.  He  will  give  you  a  safe-conduct. 
Should  he  inquire  after  me,  I  am  not  in  Barletta  but 
near  by.  Yesterday  evening  I  heard  all  the  particulars 
about  Ginevra  from  those  soldiers  who  were  carousing 
below  stairs.  I  am  satisfied  now  that  she  is  with  that 
Fieramosca,  and  not  very  far  from  here ;  I  should  think 
in  some  part  accessible  by  sea.  I  want  to  know  before 
vespers  where  she  is.  Find  out  Fieramosca,  and  see 
that  they  do  not  escape." 

Don  Miguel  received  the  letter  and  the  command  of 
his  master  without  saying  a  word ;  he  went  back  to  his 
room,  dressed  himself,  and  as  dayhght  appeared,  drawing 
the  hood  over  his  eyes,  went  to  the  citadel. 

The  Duke  was  at  the  window,  following  the  course  of 
Don  Miguel  as  the  latter  left  the  house  ;  there  was  evil 
in  the  Duke's  eye,  and  his  countenance  looked  as  if  it 
foreboded  misfortune  to  others.  And  still  of  all  the  ribalds 
he  had  in  his  pay,  —  and  he  had  some  who  liad  attained  to 
a  very  high  degree  of  perfection,  —  none  could  be  said  to 
be  the  soul  of  all  his  undertakings  as  was  this  one  ;  and  if 
faith  could  be  placed  in  a  fellow  of  that  stamp,  he  certainly 
had  given  signal  proofs  of  his  fidelity  to  his  master  on 
occasions  of  great  importance.  But  Cesare  Borgia  hated 
him  for  the  very  reason  that  he  was  very  much  indebted 
to  him,  and  because  he  could  not  get  rid  of  him  when  he 
chose,  unless  he  wished  to  cut  off  his  own  right  arm. 


ETTOEE   FIERAMOSCA.  103 

Very  few  persons  knew  the  history  of  this  man.  Accord- 
ing to  the  general  opinion  he  was  from  Navarra.  To 
give  an  insight  into  his  character,  we  will  narrate  an 
extraordinary  act  of  revenge  committed  against  his  own 
brother,  which  was  the  occasion  of  his  becoming  one  of 
the  Duke's  servants. 

Don  Miguel  was  married  to  a  young  and  handsome 
woman  ;  and  he  had  a  younger  brother,  unmarried,  living 
with  him.  The  young  man  was  so  fascinated  with  the 
beauty  of  his  sistei*-in-law,  that,  throwing  away  every  feel- 
ing of  decency  and  respect,  he  brought  her  over  to  his 
wishes.  But  they  were  not  guarded  enough  to  escape 
notice  from  a  young  servant  girl ;  she  betrayed  them. 
The  husband  watched  them,  and  saw  their  guilt ;  and  as 
he  drew  a  poignard  to  stab  them  both  at  once,  they  man- 
aged so  well  as  to  escape  from  him  only  with  a  scratch. 
His  resentment  for  the  injury  inflicted  upon  him  was  so 
great  that,  pursuing  his  brother  and  wife,  who  fled  for  their 
lives,  he  was  determined  to  kill  them  by  all  means.  But 
his  brother,  hearing  that  Don  Miguel  had  sworn  his  death, 
kaevf  how  to  hide  himself  so  well  that  he  succeeded  in 
bafiiing  all  his  plans  for  many  years ;  and  this  galled  the 
outraged  husband  so  fiercely,  that,  despairing  of  ever 
quenching  his  thirst  for  vengeance,  he  was  almost  spent 
by  this  devouring  passion. 

The  jubilee  of  1475  was  proclaimed,  and  the  usual 
practices  of  penance  were  performed  in  the  town  where 
Don  Miguel  lived ;  processions,  penitential  devotions, 
and  preaching  in  the  public  squares,  brought  around, 
as  usual  on  those  occasions,  the  good  results  of  public 
reformation ;  many  an  inveterate  hatred  was  quelled, 
reconciliations  took  place,  and  he  also  seemed  to  have 
abandoned  his  feelings  of  resentment,  and  given  himself 


104  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

up  to  God.  His  brother,  however,  notwithstanding  all 
the  advances  on  the  part  of  Don  Miguel,  could  never  be 
prevailed  upon  to  appear  before  him.  At  the  close  of  the 
Anno  Santo,  spent  by  the  Spaniard  in  continual  practices 
of  penance,  he  resolved  to  leave  the  world,  and  repair- 
ing to  a  monastery,  took  the  habit  and  professed  religious 
life.  He  was  sent  by  his  Superiors  to  various  places  in 
Spain,  and  even  to  Rome,  where  he  completed  his  studies, 
with  the  fame  of  possessing  no  ordinary  talents. 

Thence  being  recalled  to  Spain,  he  gave  so  good 
accounts  of  himself,  that  he  was  thought  fit  to  be  pro- 
moted to  the  px'iesthood.  He  celebrated  his  first  mass 
with  customary  solemnity  in  the  presence  of  relations  and 
friends.  When  mass  "was  over,  he  went  to  the  vestry, 
and,  according  to  the  practice,  still  dressed  in  the  sacer- 
dotal robes,  he  received  the  congratulations  of  the  people 
and  of  his  friends,  admitting  them  to  his  embraces,  or  to 
the  kissing  of  his  hands. 

Many  people  had  heard  him  repeatedly  protesting  that 
nothing  filled  him  with  so  much  grief  as  the  recollection 
of  the  intense  hatred  he  had  for  so  long  a  time  nourished 
against  his  brother ;  and  he  had  often  said  that  he  had  no 
other  wish  in  the  world  than  to  be  able  to  efface  the  past 
entirely,  and  that  he  would  even,  like  a  faithful  servant 
of  the  Lord,  be  the  first  to  humble  himself.  On  this  sol- 
emn occasion,  his  brother,  moved  by  the  entreaties  of  all 
his  kin,  resolved  to  present  himself  along  with  the  rest. 
As  he  appeared  in  the  clergyman's  presence,  he  stretched 
forth  his  arms,  and  was  beginning  to  speak.  Don  Mig- 
uel received  him  in  his  open  arms ;  but  then  the  beseech- 
ing brother,  instead  of  raising  his  head,  was  seen  to  drop 
on  his  knees,  fall  backward  with  a  deep  groan ;  and  the 
priest  brandishing  in  the  air  a  small  stiletto,  which  he 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  105 

had  plunged  into  his  brother's  heart,  while  he  was  press- 
ing him  to  his  own,  kissed  the  ensanguined  blade,  and  kick- 
ing the  corpse,  said, — "at  last! "  and  disappeared.  The 
bystanders  were  thundersti-uck,  and  so  horrified,  that  they 
did  not  move ;  and  the  monster  was  allowed  to  escape. 

A  price  was  then  set  on  his  head ;  he  wandered  from 
place  to  place,  until  he  repaired  to  Rome,  and  Valentino 
saved  his  life.  The  latter  easily  discovered  the  nature  of 
Miguel's  soul,  and  soon  employed  him  in  affairs  of  the 
highest  importance ;  and  the  ribald  became,  in  short,  the 
prime  agent  in  all  his  undertakings. 

As  Miguel  reached  the  gates  of  the  castle,  on  being 
asked  by  the  guards  whom  he  wished  to  see,  he  pointed 
to  a  small  coffer  under  his  arm,  and  told  them  that  he 
had  just  returned  from  the  East,  and  wished  to  see  Gon- 
zalo,  to  offer  him  several  samples  of  very  great  rarity, 
powerful  remedies  against  charms,  and  a  thousand  like 
rigmaroles.  One  of  them,  after  having  scrutinized  his 
face  very  closely,  beckoned  to  him  to  follow. 

They  entered  a  large  yard,  enclosed  all  around  with 
high  buildings  of  ancient  architecture.  The  rooms  in 
each  story  had  their  doors  opening  on  piazzas  running  all 
around  the  yard.  These  piazzas  were  supported  by  col- 
umns of  gray  stone,  and  over  them  were  vaulted  arches 
either  round  or  pointed,  according  to  the  different  epochs 
in  which  they  had  been  added.  Several  turrets,  round 
and  crowned  with  merlons  in  the  shape  of  swallow- 
tails, arose  at  unequal  distances  high  above  the  level  of 
the  roof,  and  were  of  a  reddish  color  like  that  of  old  bricks. 
From  the  top  of  the  highest,  which  was  called  the  clock- 
tower,  streamed  a  large  flag,  yellow  and  flaming  red,  the 
colors  of  Spain. 

They  mounted  to  the  first  story, —  following  outside 
6* 


106  ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA. 

steps,  with  wide  stone  balusters,  on  which  were  squat- 
ted in  a  direct  line  lions  of  very  rough  workmanship,  — 
and  entered  a  hall  where  Don  Miguel  was  left  by  his 
guide,  who  said  to  him :  — 

"You  can  speak  to  the  Great  Captain  when  he  comes 
out." 

"  And,  pray,  when  will  he  come  out  ?  " 

"  When  he  jjleases." 

And  with  this  not  over-courteous  reply,  the  soldier  went 
about  his  business. 

Don  Miguel  knew  very  well  that  patience  is  the  god- 
dess of  antechambers,  and  held  his  peace.  He  was  soon 
awai'e  that  he  had  become  a  mark  for  the  curiosity  of 
some  gentlemen  who  had  clustered  within  the  embrasure 
of  one  of  the  large  windows  which  opened  over  the  sea. 
In  order  to  take  a  position,  he  began  to  move  about,  look- 
ing at  the  old  pictures,  with  which  the  walls  were  cov- 
ered. Thus  with  an  air  of  nonchalance  he  went  very 
near  to  them  —  perhaps,  he  thought,  I  might  do  some 
good  here  !  At  last  he  caught  the  moment  to  throw  in 
a  word  or  two,  and  after  awhile  he  was  one  of  the  com- 
pany. 

That  good  luck  which  is  almost  always  prayed  for  use- 
lessly by  honest  folks,  did  not  keep  our  friend  long  in 
waiting.  He  M'atched  with  a  piercing  eye  those  gentle- 
men, and  selected  one  especially  from  the  rest.  He  was  a 
man  nearly  fifty  years  of  age,  tall,  thin,  with  one  of 
his  shoulders  slightly  out  of  proportion ;  he  dragged  at 
his  side  a  long  sword  which  stuck  out  from  under  his 
gaberdine,  and  punched  the  shins  of  all  around ;  for  be 
was  fussing  about,  scraping  bows  and  putting  on  airs  of 
importance,  making  himself  intimate  with  every  one,  but 
more  especially  with  those  who  were  of  higher  standing. 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  107 

Eyebrows  which  foi'med  two  arches  high  up  to  the  mid- 
dle of  his  forehead,  and  eyes  gray,  round,  and  always 
looking  wonders,  gave  to  his  countenance  an  expression 
of  inquisitiveness,  mixed  with  stolidity ;  and  this  trait 
was  made  even  more  marked  by  a  continual  smile  with 
which  he  accompanied  his  whole  conversation.  This 
good  knight  was  Don  Litterio  Defastidiis,  the  Podesta  * 
of  Barletta,  than  whom  no  man  was  more  inquisitive  or 
more  vain. 

Don  Miguel,  who  was  a  great  physiognomist,  saw  at 
once  that  he  had  met  the  man  he  wanted.  He  approached, 
and  began  a  conversation  with  him,  addressing  him  in  a 
manner  courteous  and  frank,  which  he  knew  very  well 
how  to  use  when  he  needed  it.  The  Podesta  never 
added  a  phi-ase,  without  some  pleasantry  of  the  ohligato 
kind  —  such  pleasantry  as  must  be  surely  familiar  to  the 
reader  who  may  have  happened  to  travel  through  some 
small  places  of  the  Regno  and  spend  an  evening  on  the 
settee  before  the  apothecary  shop ;  —  but  the  Podesta 
always  expected  that  people  should  laugh.  Don  Miguel, 
of  course,  would  be  in  a  roar  of  laughter  all  the  time, 
and  would  interrupt  the  worthy  dignitary,  saying  :  "  I 
never  knew  a  pleasanter  man  —  oh  !  that  is  beautiful  — 
oh  !  how  amusing  !  "  —  and  thus  they  became  boon  com- 
panions in  less  than  half  an  hour. 

At  that  moment  Prospero  Colonna  came  out  of  Gon- 
zalo's  room  with  the  safe-conduct  for  the  challenge, 
crossed  the  hall,  and  all  bowed  to  him  as  he  passed. 
Don  Miguel  asked  who  the  baron  was  ;  and  Don  Litterio 
enjoyed  the  opportunity  of  parading  his  knowledge  of 
affairs,  and  spoke  of  the  challenge,  and  related  what  had 
taken  place  at  the  supper  of  the  night  befoi'e,  and  had  a 
*  A  kind  of  mayor  or  moderator. 


108  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

great  deal  to  say  of  Ettore  Fieramosca  and  his  amours. 
Don  Miguel,  who  had  obtained  more  than  he  hoped,  said, 
feigning  to  take  great  interest  in  the  matter :  — 

"  That  young  man  ....  what  do  you  call  him  ?  " 

"  Fieramosca." 

"  This  Fieramosca  is  then  a  great  friend  of  yours,  that 
you  take  so  much  interest  in  him." 

'•  Oh  !  for  that  he  is  one  of  my  dearest  friends.  And 
see,  he  is  very  much  esteemed  by  Signor  Prospero  ;  then 

he  is  a  great  favorite  with  all He  is  such  a  brave 

young  man  !  We  meet  every  evening  either  at  the  Co- 
lonnas  or  in  the  square.  It  is  a  pity  he  has  a  very  ugly 
habit.  He  never  laughs,  never  !  He  has  a  face  so  long, 
just  as  if  he  were  excommunicated  ;  it  is  painful  to  look 
at  him.  Eh  !  I  had  taken  notice  of  it  long  ago ;  but 
they  would  not  believe  me.  Those  brave  soldiers  are 
queer  fellows !  It  seems  as  if  they  were  ashamed  to  be 
in  love  !  But  that  French  baron  who  has  been  made 
prisoner  by  him,  and  who  had  known  him  in  Rome,  let  it 
out ;  and  so  now  there  is  not  the  least  doubt.  There  is 
too  much  truth  in  the  old  saying :  —  Amore  tosse  e  scab- 
Ma,  non  la  mostra  chi  non  Vabhia"  (only  those  who  have 
it,  w-ill  give  signs  of  love,  cough,  and  itch). 

Don  Miguel  of  course  received  this  pleasantry  of  the 
first  magistrate  of  Barletta  with  a  great  laugh,  which  he 
had  to  repeat  three  times,  because  it  was  Don  Litterio's 
gratification  to  quote  the  proverb  three  times  in  succes- 
sion. When  this  fit  of  mirth  had  passed  away,  and  the 
two  companions  had  become  composed  again,  the  Span- 
iard remarked, — 

"  It  would  not  be  difficult  for  me  to  cure  him  of  this 
love-sickness,  and  so  well  that  he  would  never  more 
think  of  it.     But" 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  109 

And  here  he  paused  in  order  to  be  importuned. 
"  To  cure  him  ?  "  quoth  the  Podesta,  "  how  could  you 
do  that  ?     A  fever  of  that  kind  is  not  cured  by  doctors 
and  apothecaries." 

"  And  I  tell  you,  that  if  I  could  only  find  one  who  was 
an  intimate  friend  of  his,  who  would  help  me,  I  could  do 
it,  and  I  would  stake  my  head  on  it." 

Don  Litterio  looked  at  him  staringly  in  the  face,  to 
know  whether  he  was  joking  or  in  earnest ;  and  it  would 
be  useless  for  us  to  remark  that  Don  Miguel  knew  very 
well  how  to  make  that  investigation  turn  to  his  purpose. 
When  the  former  seemed  satisfied  as  to  his  friend's  being 
in  earnest,  he  added  :  — 

"  If  nothing  else  is  wanted,  you  shall  have  it." 
And  he  thought  in  his  own  mind  how  to  secure  to 
himself  the  merit  of  this  cure,  as  he  claimed  for  himself 
the  honor  of  having  made  the  discovery  of  the  disease. 
And  most  assuredly,  whoever  could  have  achieved  the 
miracle  of  making  Fieramosca  more  approachable,  and 
partial  to  noise  and  jollity,  would  have  been  praised 
to  the  skies  by  his  friends  and  by  all  who  knew  him. 

Then  Don  Litterio  kept  on  urging  Don  Miguel  to  tell 
him  how  he  could  achieve  so  difficult  a  result ;  but  the 
latter  was  very  morose,  allowing  the  other  to  pray  and 
beseech,  as  if  he  were  afraid  to  trust  him.  At  last,  feign- 
ing to  yield,  he  told  him,  how,  in  the  land  of  the  Turks, 
he  had  learned  to  apply  a  remedy  which  had  a  wonder- 
ful power  to  extinguish  any  love,  however  desperate.  It 
did  not  cost  him  much  to  master,  in  a  very  short  time, 
the  hare-brained  head  of  the  unfortunate  Podesta,  who 
thought  himself  very  fortunate  in  having  met  this 
man. 

"  One  condition  is  indispensable,"  said  Don  Miguel  at 


110  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

last ;  "  that  is,  that  I  may  be  in  company  with'  the  inamo- 
rata for  five  minutes  ;  then  leave  the  rest  to  myself." 

"  To  tell  the  ti'uth,  I  could  not  on  the  spot  direct  you 
how  to  obtain  the  interview.  Because,  in  fact,  I  do  not 
know  her.  But  you  can  depend  on  me,  provided  she  is 
in  Barletta,  or  within  tea  miles.  In  less  than  twenty- 
four  hours  I  shall  be  able  to  give  you  some  information. 
I  will  speak  to  Giuliano  ...  he  is  the  messenger  of 
the  Commune  ...  he  is  a  real  devil  to  find  out  every 
thing." 

"And  where  shall  we  meet  ?"  asked  Don  Miguel. 

"  Anywhere." 

"  If  it  is  agreeable  to  you  we  will  meet  at  the  tavern 
of  the  Sun,  about  twenty-two  of  the  clock." 

"  Agreed,"  answered  Don  Litterio ;  and  leaving  Don 
Miguel  exceedingly  pleased  with  his  good  success,  he 
went  to  the  palace  of  the  Commune  to  find  out  Giuliano. 
If  it  is  perfectly  agreeable  to  the  reader  we  will  dispense 
•with  keeping  him  company,  lest  Don  Miguel  should  get 
too  much  out  of  patience  in  the  antechamber. 

He  patiently  waited  a  long  time,  hoping  that  Gonzalo 
would  make  his  appearance ;  at  last  he  prevailed  on  the 
usher  to  be  marshalled  in. 

The  Captain  of  Spain  was  standing  upright  near  a 
window.  He  was  wrapped  in  a  loose  robe  of  vermilion 
satin,  lined  with  meniver  skin ;  and  the  noble  appear- 
ance, the  high  forehead,  the  scrutinizing  eye,  and  lastly, 
the  very  name  of  a  man  who  was  so  great,  awoke  in  the 
bosom  of  Valentino's  agent  those  feelings  of  awe,  and 
even  of  cowax'dice,  which  invariably  assail  a  wicked 
mortal  in  the  presence  of  a  virtuous  man.  With  an  air 
of  great  humility  he  made  a  very  low  bow,  and  said :  — 

•"  Glorious  Lord !   the  importance  of  the  message  I 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  Ill 

carry  to  your  Magnijicenza  has  forced  me  to  assume  a 
name  which  is  not  my  own.  If  I  have  offended  you  by 
doing  so,  I  humbly  beg  your  pardon ;  but  as  you  will 
perceive  by  yourself,  the  necessity  of  keeping  secret  was 
too  great,  and  he  who  sends  me  to  you  could  trust  him- 
self to  none  but  to  your  glorious  faith." 

Gonzalo  answered  in  a  very  few  words  that  he  would 
not  betray  those  who  trusted  in  him,  and  bade  him  to 
give  the  message.  Don  Miguel  gave  him  the  Duke's 
letter,  obtained  the  safe-conduct,  and  carrying  it  to  his 
master,  assured  him  that  Gonzalo  would  keep  the  se- 
cret of  his  being  in  Barletta. 

Then  he  told  him  how  much  aid  he  could  promise  him- 
self from  his  new  friend,  the  podesta ;  and  so  Valentino, 
pleased  with  the  turn  which  his  schemes  seemed  likely 
to  take,  drew  the  hood  over  his  eyes,  and,  wrapped  in 
his  cloak,  left  the  tavern.  A  boat  rowed  him  to  the 
back  of  the  citadel,  where  Gonzalo,  after  an  agreement 
with  Don  Miguel,  had  sent  a  man  to  wait  for  him.  A 
small  gate  was  opened  to  him  ;  and  ascending  a  narrow, 
secret  stairway,  they  passed  through  dark  winding 
passages,  until  he  i*eached  the  Captain-General's  apart- 
ment. 

We  do  not  deem  it  to  be  of  much  importance  to  give 
a  detailed  account  of  this  interview. 

Valentino  gave  a  substantial  resume,  with  admirable 
clearness,  of  the  actual  state  of  things  in  Italy,  —  the 
nerve,  the  hopes,  the  apprehensions  of  the  different  states. 
He  led  the  captain  to  believe  that  it  would  gratify  him  to 
attach  himself  to  Spain,  feigning  to  be  moved  to  take  this 
step  out  of  anxiety  for  the  welfare  of  his  people,  and  to 
avert  the  calamities  which  they  would  be  exposed  to,  in 
case  the  Spaniards  should   gain    the  victory.     With  an 


112  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

ingenuousness  which  he  could  at  times  command  most 
admirably,  he  succeeded  in  giving  to  the  great  general  a 
far  better  opinion  of  himself  than  was  generally  enter- 
tained. He  proposed  to  form  an  alliance  with  Spain,  in 
which  the  Pope  would  join,  and  in  which  a  chance  would 
be  left  for  the  Venetians,  in  case  they  would  take  part ;  by 
it  they  would  pledge  themselves  to  help  each  other  in 
their  mutual  interests,  and  it  would  be  made  public  only 
when  the  Spaniards  had  obtained  possession  of  two 
thirds  of  the  Regno.  He  proposed  to  make  the  con- 
quest of  Tuscany  with  his  own  forces,  showing  the  im- 
portance of  it  by  the  fact,  that  the  Florentines  were  the 
stanchest  friends  of  the  French  in  Italy,  and  that  it 
would  be  of  paramount  necessity  to  break  this  powerful 
alliance.  He  added,  that  it  would  largely  increase  the 
strength  of  the  league,  to  call  the  Pisans  to  enter  into  it, 
helping  them  thereby  to  recompense  themselves  for  the 
evils  they  had  suffered  from  the  Republic  of  Florence, 
over  which,  if  they  could  have  been  made  stronger,  they 
would  have  become  most  watchful  guardians. 

Gonzalo  had  no  objections  of  great  weight  to  offer  to 
these  proposals ;  and  the  cunning  mind  of  Cesare  Borgia 
knew  how  to  place  in  the  strongest  light  matters  which 
were  in  great  part  true.  But  the  Spaniard  knew  him, 
and  did  not  feel  warranted  in  placing  any  trust  in  him. 

He  resolved  then  not  to  give  any  definite  answer,  and 
said  he  would  take  the  opinion  of  his  most  intimate  ad- 
visers before  coming  to  a  final  determination.  He  was 
very  lavish  of  good  words  and  courteous  manners  towards 
Valentino  ;  he  led  him  to  some  apartments  on  the  lowest 
story,  which  opened  over  the  sea,  and  he  placed  them  at 
his  disposal  for  the  time  he  would  be  pleased  to  remain 
in  Barletta ;  and  he  directed  some  of  his  most  faithful 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  113 

servants  to  wait  on  him  with  that  attention  which  was  due 
to  a  son  of  Alexander  VI. 

Towards  evening,  Fieramosca  and  Brancaleone  arrived 
at  the  gates  of  the  city.  As  soon  as  they  had  entered,  a 
crowd  of  officers,  men  of  arms,  and  soldiers  began  to 
crowd  upon  them,  and  their  number  increased  as  they 
went  on ;  all  very  anxious  to  be  the  first  to  know  the 
answer  of  the  French.  —  How  did  you  get  along  ?  —  what 
is  the  reply  ?  who  will  enter  the  lists  ?  when  ?  where  ? 
....  But  the  two  friends,  smihng  at  so  much  fury, 
calmly  answered :  —  Come  to  the  rock,  and  you  will 
know  it.  As  they  reached  the  citadel,  and  were  intro- 
duced to  Gonzalo,  Fieramosca  handed  him  the  letter  of 
the  Duke  of  Nemours,  which  the  General  read  aloud,  and 
in  which  it  was  said  that  the  challenge  was  accepted,  but 
free  camp  was  refused.  This  seemed  very  strange  to  all, 
and  the  great  captain  remarked :  — 

"  I  could  never  believe  that  the  French  would  seek  to 
avoid  the  fight.  But  you  shall  have  a  free  field ;  be  sure 
of  it." 

Then  he  called  one  of  his  secretaries,  and  said  to  him, 
"  Write  to  the  Duke  of  Nemours  to  be  of  good  cheer,  that 
the  obstacle  is  removed ;  I  offer  him  a  truce  until  after 
tlie  fight ;  and  lastly,  that  after  three  days  I  expect  my 
daughter  Elvira,  in  Avhose  honor  I  intend  to  have  a  little 
feast ;  if  he  chooses,  while  the  arms  are  laid  down,  to 
come  and  enjoy  them  with  us,  he  will  contribute  to  make 
it  more  cheerful." 

Between  writing,  expediting  the  letter,  and  receiving 
an  answer,  scarcely  two  hours  had  passed.  The  Duke 
of  Nemours  accepted  the  invitation  and  the  truce,  which 
was  proclaimed  through  the  city  that  same  evening  at 
the  sound  of  trumpet,  together  with  the  names  of  the 


114  ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA. 

Italian  combatants,  to  which,  to  complete  the  number 
required  by  the  French,  three  men  had  been  added ;  and 
their  names  were: — 

Ludovico  Aminale  of  Temi. 

Mariano  da  Sarni. 

Giovanni  Capoccio  Romano. 


CHAPTER  Vni. 

Santa  Orsola  was  the  titular  saint  of  the  monastery 
situated  on  the  island  between  Mt.  Gargano   and  Bar- 
letta.     The  only  vestige  of  it  that  remains  at  the  present 
day  is  a  heap  of  ruins  covered  with  ivy  and  briars.     But 
at  the  time  of  our  history  it  was  an  imposing  structure, 
of  sombre  appearance,  kept  in  excellent  repair,  erected 
in  olden  times  by  the  tardy  repentance  of  a  princess  of 
D'Anjou.     After  a  life  nearly  exhausted  in  pursuits  of 
pleasure   and   ambition,  she  withdrew  thither  to   spend 
her  last  days  in  works  of  repentance  and   atonement. 
There  one  can  enjoy  a  sweet  solitude  in  perfect  seclusion. 
On  a  rock  about  forty -five  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea 
rose  a  plateau  of  near  fifteen  hundred  feet  in  circumfer- 
ence, the  soil  of  it  being  very  rich.     The  church  stood  on 
the  corner  nearest  to  terra  firma.   The  entrance  to  it  was 
under  a  tasteful  portico  supported  by  handsome  columns 
of  gray  granite.     The  aisles  of  the  church,  flanking  the 
nave,  were  vaulted  on  pointed  arches,  poising  on  fasces 
of  slender  columns  ornamented  with  carvings.    The  light 
was  admitted  through   long  Gothic  windows  of  stained 
glass,  representing  the  life  and  deeds  of  the  martyred 
Ursula.     The  absis  behind  the  high  altar  was  semicircu- 
lar, with  mosaics  on  grounds  of  gold.     They  represented 
the  Eternal   Father  in  glory,  and   Saint   Ursula,  sur- 
rounded by  her  virgin  companions,  at  his  feet. 

The   church  was  rarely  visited,  as  it  was  very  much 


116  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

out  of  the  way.  But  at  stated  hours  in  the  day  and  at 
night  the  nuns  would  meet  there  for  psalmody.  It  was 
towards  evening,  and  the  inmates  of  the  monastery  had 
assembled  at  vespers,  and  during  the  monotonous  sing- 
ing of  the  psalms,  a  woman  could  be  seen  kneeling  in 
prayer  near  a  tomb  of  marble  once  white,  but  now  ren- 
dered yellowish  by  age  ;  it  was  surmounted  with  a 
canopy  also  of  marble,  and  with  an  exuberance  of  chis- 
elled foliage  and  animals  in  the  Gothic  style. 

At  first  sight,  that  woman  so  pale  and  motionless,  cov- 
ered with  a  flowing  white  veil,  might  have  been  taken  for 
a  statue  of  the  foundress,  who  lay  beneath  the  tomb.  But, 
on  closer  observation,  the  beholder  saw  two  long  tresses 
of  auburn  hair  peeping  from  under  the  veil,  and  the  occa- 
sionally upturned  face  disclosed  two  blue  eyes,  from 
which  a  prayerful  light  was  beaming. 

The  unhappy  Ginevra,  for  she  it  was,  felt  the  need  of 
prayer,  because  she  was  in  that  state  in  which  the  heart 
of  a  woman  finds  no  resources  to  conquer  itself.  She 
regretted,  however,  too  late,  that  she  had  followed  Fiera- 
mosca,  and  thus  attached  her  foi'tunes  to  him,  to  whom, 
more  than  to  any  one  else,  prudence  and  duty  forbade 
her  to  cling.  To  have  neglected  so  long  ascertaining 
whether  her  husband  was  alive  or  dead,  was  to  lier  a 
source  of  reproach.  Reason  whispered  to  her :  it  is  not 
too  late  to  do  what  ought  to  have  been  done  long  ago ; 
but  the  heart  interfered,  and"  said.  His  too  late.  That  too 
late  sounded  as  a  sentence  without  appeal.  Her  days 
were  full  of  anxiety,  anguish,  and  bitterness.  She  had 
no  hope  of  getting  rid  of  her  trouble  but  by  putting  an 
end  to  the  contest  of  her  feelings.  Her  constitution  was 
suffering  under  this  perpetual  struggle. 

She  had  some  comfort  in  the  morning,  and  at  the  hours 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  117 

of  mid-day.  She  could  work  at  the  needle,  she  had  plenty 
of  books  to  read,  and  she  walked  in  the  garden  of  the 
monastery.  But  towards  night !  Like  those  insects 
which  at  the  setting  of  the  sun  seem  to  multiply  and  to 
double  their  energy  to  vex  man,  so  the  most  annoying 
cares,  and  most  ominous  thoughts  crowded  upon  her  mind 
and  soul,  and  made  her  wretched.  Then  she  would  run 
to  the  church  for  relief.  She  could  find  no  peace,  no  joy 
there,  but  she  drew  some  comfort  at  least  from  prayer. 

The  purport  and  the  spirit  of  her  prayer  was  ever  the 
same.  "  Most  blessed  mother,  make  me  wish  not  to  love 
him ; "  sometimes  she  added,  "  O !  nerve  me  to  resolve 
to  seek  after  Graiano,  or  cause  me  to  have  the  wish  of 
finding  him  out."  Alas  !  very  often  she  had  not  the 
heax't  to  utter  this  last  prayer. 

Sometimes  it  happened  that,  from  the  habit  of  repeat- 
ing this  prayer  so  often,  she  caught  herself  thinking  in 
earnest  of  Fieramosca,  when  she  was  just  praying  for 
grace  to  forget  him.  In  that  torture  of  her  soul  she 
sobbed  and  cried,  but  she  could  not  deceive  herself  as  to 
which  was  the  strongest  wish  of  her  heart.  However, 
on  this  day,  in  one  of  those  ups  and  downs  which  are 
so  usual  in  our  human  nature,  she  thought  at  last  that 
she  could  brace  herself  up  to  resolve  on  the  true  course. 
Her  failing  health  made  her  feel  as  if  she  would  soon 
be  very  ill ;  then  she  thought  of  death.  What !  to  meet 
death  with  an  accusing  conscience  ?  This  struck  her 
forcibly,  and  threw  the  weight  on  that  side  of  the  scales ; 
she  resolved  to  obtain  information  of  Graiano,  and  if  she 
could  trace  him  out  to  go  back  to  him,  by  all  means, 
cost  what  it  might.  Had  Fieramosca  been  there,  she 
would  have  told  him  her  determination  resolutely  on 
the  spot,  without  the  least  hesitation  ;  but  on  rising   to 


118  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

leave  the  church,  she  said,' "  He'll  come  this  evening, 
and  he  shall  know  all." 

The  chant  in  the  choir  being  over,  the  nuns  were 
leaving  one  by  one,  and  were  returning  to  their  cells 
through  a  small  gate  leading  to  the  small  court-yard  of 
the  cloister. 

Ginevra  followed  them,  and  entered  a  portico,  which 
ran  around  the  small  garden,  and  in  its  neatness  shone 
like  a  mirror.  A  wooden  shed,  supported  by  four  pi- 
lasters of  stone,  protected  a  well  lined  with  bricks,  in.  the 
centre  of  the  garden.  Through  a  long  corridor  she 
passed  into  a  back  court-yard,  at  the  end  of  which  stood 
a  small  dwelling,  which,  not  cloistered,  was  separated 
from  the  convent,  and  where  the  guests  lodgings  were 
built.  Ginevra,  with  the  young  woman  whose  life  Ettore 
had  saved,  occupied  two  or  three  rooms  of  it.  These 
rooms,  after  the  usual  manner  of  monasteries,  had  no 
communication  with  each  other,  but  were  entered  from 
a  common  corridor.  AVhen  Ginevra  entered  what  was 
used  for  a  sitting-room  in  day  time,  Zorais  was  busy  at  a 
frame,  and  whilst  plying  the  needle,  she  sang  an  Arabian 
air,  composed  in  minor  tones,  after  the  usual  manner  of 
the  songs  of  southern  nations.  Ginevra  glanced  ai  the 
work,  and  sighed ;  —  it  was  a  cape  of  blue  satin  embroid- 
ered with  silver,  at  which  they  both  worked  together,  and 
was  destined  as  a  present  to  Fieramosca.  Then  she  sat 
on  the  piazza,  which  looked  over  Barletta,  and  was  shaded 
with  vines.  The  sun  was  setting  behind  the  hills  of 
Puglia.  A  few  narrow  strips  of  clouds  scattered  about 
the  sky,  glowing  with  the  glare  of  the  sun,  resembled 
golden  fish  swimming  in  a  sea  of  fire.  Their  form  was 
stretched  on  a  long  line,  and  reflected  the  light  on  the 
surface   of  the  waters,  rippled  here  and  there  by  a  few 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  119 

boats  of  fishermen,  sailing  ■with  a  light  eastern  wind 
towards  the  shore.  The  woman's  gaze  was  rivetted  upon 
the  mole  of  the  opposite  harbor,  whence  a  small  boat 
was  often  seen  to  start  and  row  towards  the  island. 

On  this  evening  she  wishes  to  see  that  boat  more  than 
ever ;  she  feels  as  if  it  were  freighted  with  a  most  impor- 
tant decision ;  no  matter  what  the  result  may  be,  any- 
thing will  be  better  than  her  present  state.  But  O  !  those 
moments  thus  spent  in  waiting  were  long  and  bitter ! 
She  wished  Ettore  had  already  come ;  she  wished  she  had 
already  told  him  that  which  she  felt  so  difficult  to  utter  ; 
in  case  he  tarried,  or  did  not  come  at  all,  would  she  feel 
the  same  energy  and  determination  on  the  mon'ow  ? 

A  dark  dot,  which  at  first  seemed  to  have  scarcely  any 
motion,  appeared  soon  on  the  water  near  the  shore. 
After  a  quarter  of  an  hour  it  approached  nearer  and 
nearer,  and  increased  in  size.  An  unaccustomed  eye 
could  hardly  see  that  it  was  a  one  oar  boat ;  but  Ginevra 
recognized  it,  and  her  heart  beat  convulsively.  By  a 
sudden  revulsion,  her  former  ideas  and  resolutions  were 
changed,  and  all  at  once  she  felt  that  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  tell  him  what  a  few  moments  before  she  had,  or 
at  least  thought  she  had,  irrevocably  determined  to  say. 
She  would  even  have  been  pleased  had  the  boat  tacked 
about  and  returned ;  but  alas !  on,  on  it  came ;  it  was 
already  near  the  island ;  she  could  hear  the  splash  of 
the  oars  plunging  into  the  sea. 

"  Zorais,  here  he  is  ! "  she  said,  turning  towards  the 
maiden,  who  scarcely  raised  her  head,  but  nodded  in 
reply  that  she  had  heard  the  announcement,  and  fixed 
her  eyes  again  on  the  work  before  her.  Ginevra  went 
down  to  the  only  place  where  the  island  could  be  ap- 
proached, and  through  steps  cut  in  the  stone,  reached  the 


120  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

shore  just  when  Fieramosca  was  in  the  act  of  laying  the 
oars  down,  and  the  bow  struck  on  the  rock. 

Now  the  truth  was  that  while  the  woman  felt  loath  to 
declare  her  own  resolutions,  Fieramosca,  who  had  matters 
equally  as  momentous  to  reveal,  possessed  no  more  cour- 
age than  she  did, 

Having  been  so  long  away  from  the  places  where 
Graiano  had  been  following  the  fortunes  of  different  ar- 
mies, he  had  not  heard  tidings  of  him  for  many  a  day. 
Some  soldiers  from  Romagna,  either  not  being  well  in- 
formed or  having  mistaken  the  name,  had  told  him  that 
he  was  dead.  Such  news  would  have  been  too  much  in 
accordance  with  his  wishes  to  be  disbelieved,  or  to  induce 
him  to  take  any  steps  to  verify  the  fact.  "We  are  of  opin- 
ion that  one  very  seldom  wishes  to  see  matters  clear,  when 
he  is  afraid  to  discover  his  own  evil.  Thus,  neglecting  to 
employ  proper  means  to  find  out  the  truth,  he  went  on 
from  day  to  day,  until  his  own  eyes  had  at  last  undeceived 
him.  He  went  back  to  Barletta,  struggling  within  him- 
self whether  he  should  tell  Ginevra  or  not.  If  he  did, 
then  they  would  be  separated  forever ;  if  not,  then  he  felt 
as  if  he  was  becoming  guilty  of  positive  wrong ;  but, 
again,  how  could  he  hide  anything  from  her,  who  knew 
so  well  how  to  read  his  very  thoughts  ? 

In  this  state  of  perplexity  he  arrived  at  the  island ; 
his  mind  was  not  made  up  when  he  met  Ginevra,  and 
feeling  that  he  had  to  decide  one  way  or  the  other,  he  re- 
solved to  say  nothing  for  the  present,  saying  to  himself — 
we'll  see  about  it. 

"  I  am  late  to-night,"  said  he,  ascending  the  steps,  "  but 
we  have  had  a  deal  to  do,  the  whole  day,  and  I  have 
great  news." 

"  News ! "  answered  Ginevra,  "  good  or  bad  ?  " 


ETTOKE  FIERAMOSCA.  121 

"  Good ;  and  with  God's  help  they  will  even  be  better 
in  a  few  days." 

They  had  reached  the  yard  before  the  church  ;  on  the 
very  brink  where  the  rock  falls  perpendicularly  into  the 
sea  there  was  a  low  wall  for  a  parapet  or  fence,  with  a 
few  cypress  trees,  a  wooden  cross,  and  all  around  many 
rustic  seats. 

They  both  sat  down  in  the  silvery  light  of  the  moon, 
which  had  already  overcome  the  red  glare  of  the  twilight 
hours,  and  Fieramosca  began :  — 

"Ginevra  mine,  be  of  good  cheer;  to-day  has  been 
one  of  glory  for  Italy  and  for  ourselves ;  and  if  God  does 
not  refuse  to  favor  a  just  cause,  it  will  prove  the  begin- 
ning of  even  greater  glory.  But  now  it  is  necessary  to 
act  with  manliness ;  and  you  must  show  yourself  an 
example  worthy  for  Italian  women  to  follow." 

"  Speak,"  replied  the  young  woman,  staring  at  him,  as 
if  she  wished  to  study  his  countenance,  and  there  to  read 
in  advance  what  was  expected  from  her ;  "  I  am  a  woman, 
but  I  have  a  heart." 

"  I  know  it,  Ginevra ;  and  I  would  much  quicker  doubt 
the  rising  of  to-morrow's  sun,  as  to  entertain  the  least 
doubt  of  you  "...  And  then  he  told  her  of  the  challenge, 
of  all  the  particulars  concerning  its  origin,  how  they 
entered  the  French  camp,  their  return,  and  of  the  fight 
for  which  they  were  preparing.  Those  among  my  readers 
who  have  happened  to  converse  with  a  woman  of  noble 
spirit  about  generous  deeds  to  be  done  in  behalf  of  one's 
country,  must  remember  how  they  felt  their  heart  quicken- 
ing in  its  pulsations,  and  will  know  how  impassionate  must 
have  been  Ettore's  words,  —  how  fervid  with  the  love 
of  country  and  aspirations  of  glory,  and  how  the  presence 
of  Ginevra  must  have  increased  the  fire  of  his  soul. 


122  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

As  Ettore  was  progressing  in  the  narrative  of  the  events 
of  that  day  (and  his  enthusiasm  grew  with  the  growing 
interest  of  the  subject,)  the  breathing  of  Ginevra  quick- 
ened, like  a  sail  swollen  by  the  impulse  of  strong  winds  ; 
her  bosom  was  heaving  under  unmanageable  and  dis- 
cordant, but  not  unworthy  feelings  ;  her  eyes,  seeming  to 
take  their  temper  from  the  words  of  the  young  soldier, 
glared  and  sparkled. 

Lastly,  laying  her  gentle  and  white  hand  on  the  hilt 
of  Ettore's  sword,  and  raising  her  face  boldly,  she  said :  — 

"  Would  I  had  thine  arm !  would  I  might  wield  the 
weapon  I  can  scarcely  hft  !  thou  shouldst  not  go  alone  ; 
no !  and  I  should  not  live  perhaps  to  hear  the  Italians 
gained  the  victory,  but  remained  there  on  the  field.  .  .  . 
O !  I  know  it,  I  know  it.  Thou  shalt  not  return  con- 
quered "  .  .  .  .  Here  the  thought  of  the  impending  danger 
fell  upon  her  mind,  and  she  could  not  stem  a  torrent  of 
tears;  they  fell  upon  and  bedewed  the  hand  of  Fiera- 
mosca. 

"  For  whom  do  you  cry  ?  Ginevra,  have  you  any 
wish  that  the  combat  should  not  take  place  ?  " 

"  No,  Ettore,  never,  never !  do  not  wrong  me  thus ; " 
and  drying  her  tears  she  added,  with  great  emotion,  "  I 
do  not  cry  .  .  .  see,  it  is  over  now  ...  it  was  only  a 
moment."  .  .  .  Then  with  a  smile,  to  which  the  tearful 
eyelids  added  charms,  she  said :  — 

"  I  have  aspired  to  too  much  bravery ;  and  I  have 
spoken  of  arms  and  wars,  and  then  I  have  shown  what  I 
am ;  I  deserve  it." 

"  A  woman  of  your  temper  can  make  swords  do  won- 
ders without  touching  them ;  you  could  turn  the  world 
upside  down  ...  if  you  knew  how.  I  do  not  mean  you, 
Ginevra,  but  those  women  of  Italy,  who  alas  !  are  not 
like  you." 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  123 

Zorais  was  then  coming  with  a  basket  filled  with 
fruits,  cakes,  apples,  and  other  refreshments,  and  she  had 
caught  the  last  words.  She  carried  the  basket  on  her 
left  arm,  and  in  her  right  she  held  a  decanter  of  white 
wine.  She  wore  garments  cut  in  the  eastern  fashion ;  but 
still  she  betrayed  the  taste  of  an  uncivilized  people  in  her 
choice  of  gaudy  colors,  and  in  the  fantastic  way  of  ar- 
ranging them.  Her  head  was  dressed  after  the  Ox-iental 
costume,  with  twisted  bands,  the  ends  of  which  fell  on 
her  bosom.  Her  eyebrow  was  uplifted,  her  look  eagle- 
like, the  color  of  her  countenance  rather  brown,  and,  if  I 
may  be  allowed  the  expression,  slightly  gilt,  as  we  see  in 
the  races  coming  from  the  Caucasus.  Her  manners  were 
affectionate,  with  an  occasional  dash  of  savage  nature; 
her  candor  was  bold,  and  without  regard  to  persons. 

She  stopped  to  look  at  Ettore  and  Ginevra,  and  said  in 
Italian,  with  a  slight  foreign  accent, — 

"  Ettore,  you  were  talking  about  women,  eh  !  I  want 
to  hear  what  you  said." 

"  Something  very  different  from  what  women  like," 
answered  Ginevra ;  "  It  was  all  about  a  dance,  in  which 
you  and  I  would  show  to  no  advantage  whatever." 

These  mysterious  words  sharpened  Zorais'  curiosity, 
and  Ettore  had  to  repeat  the  whole  story  again. 

Zorais  appeared  thoughtful  for  a  moment,  and  then  said, 
with  a  toss  of  the  head, — 

"  I  cannot  understand  you.  So  much  ire,  so  much  ado 
because  the  French  say  that  they  do  not  think  much  of 
you !  It  seems  to  me  they  have  told  you  so  more  im- 
pressively, when  they  came  to  your  land  to  consume 
your  crops,  and  dislodge  you  from  your  homes.  And  do 
not  the  Spaniards  tell  you  the  same,  when  they  come  to 
Italy  to  do  what  the  French  have  done  ?     The  hart  does 


124  ETTOBE  riERAMOSCA. 

not  chase  the  lion  out  of  his  den,  but  the  Hon  both  drags 
the  hart  out  and  devours  it." 

"  Zorais,  we  are  not  here  among  barbarians,  *  where 
might  makes  right.'  It  would  take  me  too  long  to  tell 
you  what  rights  France  has  over  the  kingdom.  Enough 
to  say  that  the  Roman  See  holds  it  as  a  fief,  which 
means,  that  she  is  mistress  of  it.  In  force  of  this  right, 
about  two  hundred  years  ago,  she  invested  with  it  Charles 
of  Provenza,  and  the  most  Christian  king  is  vested  with 
the  title  of  inheritance." 

"  It  is  curious  !  and  who  gave  it  to  the  Roman  See  ?  " 

"It  was  the  gift  of  Robert  Guiscard,  a  French  warrior, 
who  had  gained  possession  of  it  by  force  of  arms." 

"  Worse  and  worse !  I  understand  it  still  less,  now. 
Is  not  Issaben-Jussef  the  author  of  the  book  which 
Ginevra  gave  to  me,  and  which  I  have  read  with  great 
attention, I  assure  you? 

"Yes." 

"  Well ;  he  says  that  all  men  are  made  to  the  image  of 
God,  and  ransomed  with  his  blood.  I  can  understand 
well  that  there  may  be  Christians,  who,  by  an  abuse  of 
their  power,  take  possession  of  the  property  and  lives  of 
their  equals ;  but  I  cannot  understand  how  this  abuse  can 
be  construed  into  a  right  to  be  enjoyed  by  the  children's 
children." 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Ettore  with  a  smile,  "  whether 
you  understand  nought  or  too  much.  But  unless  you 
admit  this  right,  what  would  become  of  emperors  and 
kings  ?  and  without  them  how  could  the  world  go  on  ?  " 

Zorais  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  said  no  more.  She 
spread  a  white  towel,  scented  with  the  freshness  of  the 
laundry,  over  one  of  the  seats,  and  with  the  refreshments 
she  had  brought  with  her,  she  prepared  a  merenda. 


ETTORE  FIEKAMOSCA.  125 

"  That  is  good,"  remarked  Ettore,  in  order  to  divert 
the  thoughts  which  he  read  oa  Ginevra's  countenance ; 
"  let  us  have  a  feast,  and  enjoy  ourselves,  while  we  have 
the  chance,  and  let  the  world  go  as  it  will." 

"  The  proverb  says,"  Fieramosca  continued,  " '  never 
speak  of  the  dead  while  you  are  at  table ' ;  we  will  not 
speak  even  of  challenges ;  let  us  talk  of  something 
cheerful.  We  shall  have  feasts  very  soon.  Signor  Gon- 
zalo  has  proclaimed  a  tourney,  a  bull  fight,  theatricals, 
balls,  and  grand  banquets  ;  a  good  time  is  coming." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  —  and  the  French  ?  "  Ginevra 
asked. 

"  And  the  French  will  be  at  the  feasts  with  us.  A 
truce  has  been  offered,  and  they  will  not  be  such  villains 
as  to  refuse  it.  The  whole  has  been  set  up  for  the  pur- 
pose of  welcoming  the  Lady  Elvira,  the  daughter  of  the 
great  Captain ;  and  since  he  loves  her  as  the  apple  of 
his  eye,  he  intends  to  have  great  festivities." 

Here  there  was  no  end  to  questions,  and  Ettore  en- 
deavored to  satisfy  them  as  best  he  could.  We  give 
some  of  his  answers,  leaving  the  reader  to  guess  the 
questions. 

— "  Handsome  ?  most  beautiful,  if  common  report  be 
true ;  her  tresses  like  threads  of  gold." 

—  "  She  will  arrive  in  a  few  days." 

—  "  She  fell  sick  in  Taranto,  and  now  that  she  is  well, 
she  is  coming  to  join  her  father." 

—  "I  guess  he  does  love  her.  Just  think,  he  has  done 
for  her  what  he  never  did  for  himself  Perhaps  you 
have  heard  that  a  mutiny  took  place  among  the  Spanish 
troops  in  Taranto  because  he  did  not  pay  them,  and 
Inigo  told  me  that  Gonzalo  saved  his  life  by  miracle, 
as  he  was  surrounded  by  the  soldiers  armed  with  pikes. 


126  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

While  the  General  protested  loudly  that  he  had  no 
money,  one  Yciar,  a  captain  of  infantry,  cried  out,  with 
impertinent  and  shameful  words,  that  his  daughter  (you 
will  pardon  me)  would  make  him  get  some.  Gonzalo 
did  not  say  a  word  ;  the  tumult  was  quelled,  and  at  night 
quiet  reigned  again.  On  the  morning  they  get  up,  they 
went  to  the  square,  and  what  do  you  think  they  saw  ? 
Captain  Yciar  hanging  by  the  neck  from  the  window  of 
his  own  rooms.  And  Gonzalo  had  not  taken  any  notice 
of  those  who  had  levelled  the  pikes  to  his  own  breast. 
Judge  now,  whether  he  loves  her  or  not." 

They  followed  this  train  of  conversation  until  it  had 
become  late. 

"  It  is  time  for  me  to  go,"  Fieramosca  remarked  ;  he 
rose,  and  accompanied  by  the  ladies  moved  slowly  to- 
wards the  boat.  Ginevra  went  down  with  him  to  the 
foot  of  the  rock,  and  Ettore,  stepping  into  the  boat,  bade 
good-by  to  Zorais  who  had  not  come  down ;  but  she 
scarcely  returned  the  salute,  and  withdrew.  He  did  not 
mind  it,  and  said  to  Ginevra,  — 

"  She  did  not  hear  me.  Let  me  be  remembered  to  her. 
Good-by.  God  only  knows  whether  during  these  days 
we  can  see  each  other.  But  we'll  do  the  best  we  can." 
He  plied  the  oars  and  left  the  island.  Ginevra  regained 
the  platform,  and  there  she  remained  apparently  absorbed 
in  deep  thought  Avatching  the  two  lines  which,  diverging 
from  the  prow,  marked  the  wake  of  the  boat  over  a  long 
surface  of  the  waters.  When  she  could  see  no  more, 
she  entered  the  house,  closed  the  door,  and  secui-ed  it 
for  the  night,  with  two  bolts. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  fowlers  of  our  own  days  employ  about  the  same 
kind  of  decoys  to  ensnare  birds  into  their  nets  as  have 
been  used  from  the  beginning  ;  and  men  also  have  always 
been  caught  by  about  the  same  kind  of  bait. 

But  the  most  perilous  of  all  snares  is  perhaps  that 
which  calls  into  play  our  own  self-love.  Don  Miguel 
knew  this ;  and  having  found  what  was  the  lame  point  in 
the  Podesta,  with  a  few  dexterous  strokes  had  him  in  his 
power,  as  we  have  already  seen.  "When  the  worthy  mag- 
istrate had  left  the  antechamber  of  Gonzalo  to  look  for 
the  servant  of  the  Commune,  he  revolved  the  matter  in 
his  mind,  indulging  in  a  thousand  most  extraordinary 
thoughts ;  was  almost  beside  himself  for  the  joy  of  hav- 
ing met  a  man  who  had  promised  him  such  amazing 
discoveries.  It  is  true,  a  suspicion  at  times  arose  in  his 
mind  that  perhaps  he  was  a  trickster ;  but  as  he  pos- 
sessed a  most  exalted  opinion  of  his  own  wisdom,  he  con- 
soled himself  with  the  usual  saying  of  those  who  spend 
their  lives  in  being  humbugged,  —  They  cannot  catch 
me. 

He  was  punctual  at  the  rendezvous  at  the  Tavern  of 
the  Sun.  But  as  yet  he  could  not  furnish  any  additional 
information  to  Don  Miguel,  because  the  servant,  who,  in 
his  opinion,  was  so  skilful  in  ferreting  things  out,  had 
promised  a  great  deal,  done  little,  and  found  out  nothing. 


128  ETTORE  FIEEAMOSCA. 

During  his  supper,  liis  wife  and  the  servant-maid  soon 
observed  that  there  was  some  mighty  thouglit  weighing  on 
his  mind,  and  they  stormed  him  with  so  many  questions 
that  he  could  not  eat  a  morsel.  It  was  a  great  wonder 
that  he  did  not  let  the  whole  secret  out ;  for  it  would  be 
a  great  deal  easier  for  a  man  to  suppress  a  cough  in  a 
most  violent  lit,  than  for  him  to  keep  a  secret,  especially 
when  he  thought  that  its  possession  increased  his  reputa- 
tion. He  had  already  allowed  some  broken  sentences  to 
escape  from  his  lips.  Eh !  I  know  it  ...  if  you  only 
knew  it !  ...  if  I  can  succeed  in  a  certain  affair !  .  .  .  . 
But  then  he  suddenly  recovered  himself,  became  fright- 
ened at  the  danger,  arose  from  the  table,  and  peevishly 
snatching  a  light  went  to  bed. 

That  night  seemed  to  him  as  long  as  an  age.  At  last, 
daylight  appeared.  He  dressed  himself  in  a  great  hurry, 
and  having  gone  to  the  square,  installed  himself  in  a 
barber's  shop,  where  Don  Miguel  had  promised  to  meet 
him.  He  took  a  seat  on  a  bench  of  that  establishment, 
which  was  the  accustomed  morning  resort  of  the  notaiy, 
the  doctor,  the  apothecary,  and  two  or  three  others,  wise- 
acres of  Barletta.  He  crossed  his  legs,  and  kept  contin- 
ually shaking  the  foot  which  was  dangling  in  the  air ;  the 
left  arm  was  laid  against  his  body,  and  the  hand  resting 
on  the  opposite  side  supported  in  its  palm  the  elbow  of 
the  right  arm,  while  the  hand  attached  to  this  had 
made  a  drum  of  his  chin,  beating  time  on  it.  He  kept  a 
sharp  look-out  in  every  direction  to  espy  his  new  friend 
when  he  should  appear ;  but  as  be  saw  no  signs  of  him, 
he  stared  vacantly  at  the  skies.  The  apothecary,  the 
doctor,  and  the  rest,  had  repeatedly  wished  him  good 
morning,  but  to  no  purpose ;  he  scarcely  noticed  them, 
and  they  shrank  from  him  out  of  respect,  and  whispered 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  129 

to  each  oth^r :  "  "What  the  deuce  is  in  the  wind  this 
morning  ?  "  Don  Litterio  left  them  to  their  thoughts  and 
kept  silent.  He  had  two  different  expressions  of  coun- 
tenance at  his  command ;  one  most  blandly  humble  for 
those  who  were  his  superiors  ;  another  sharp  and  full  of 
wrinkles  for  those  who  were  inferior  to  him;  and,  as 
all  know,  this  is  the  precious  boon  given  by  Heaven  to 
every  uncommon  fool. 

Half  an  hour  having  been  spent  in  this  way,  he  heard 
a  voice  from  behind  his  shoulders,  — 

"  Eccellenza !  .  .  .  Signor  Podesta ;  I  hope  it  is  no 
offence  to  you ;  .  .  .  but  will  you  accept  some  of  these  ? 
.  .  .  they  have  been  gathered  while  the  dew  was  still  on 
them." 

He  turned  around,  and  saw  the  gardener  of  Sant'  Orsola, 
Gennaro  Rafamillo,  who  offered  him  a  little  tithe  from  a 
basket  of  cherries,  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  selling, 
with  other  fruits,  every  morning  in  the  square.  He  knew 
from  experience,  that,  by  offering  this  tribute,  he  might 
afterwards  sell  as  many  as  he  pleased,  with  impunity,  and 
without  much  minding  the  clerk  of  the  market. 

"  I  have  something  else  in  my  head  than  thy  cherries," 
answered  Don  Litterio ;  however,  after  taking  a  survey 
of  the  basket,  puffing  up  his  cheeks,  and  letting  the  col- 
lected air  escape  slowly,  with  a  kind  of  dignified  contempt, 
he  took  two  or  three  grape  leaves,  placed  them  on  the 
bench  to  serve  for  a  plate,  and  laid  on  them  a  good  heap 
of  the  cherries,  which  he  began  to  eat  with  an  air  of 
condescension. 

"  They  are  nice,  are  they  not  ?  Tell  the  truth !  I  took 
some  of  them  to  Madam  last  evening,  and  she  told  me 
that  she  had  never  tasted  any  better." 

"  And  who  is  this  Madam  ?  " 

6* 


130  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

"  Madonna  Ginevra ;  she  who  lives  in  the  guests' 
rooms ;  and  they  say  that  she  is  a  great  gentlewoman  of 
Naples ;  and  she  has  here,  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  a 
husband  or  a  brother,  who  serves  under  Signor  Prospero, 
and  he  comes  to  see  her  almost  every  day.  .  .  ." 

The  gardener  seemed  disposed  to  talk  a  great  deal, 
because,  in  truth,  laconism  was  not  his  main  virtue  ;  but, 
meanwhile,  Don  Miguel  had  arrived ;  and  stepping  be- 
hind the  Podesta,  who  had  not  perceived  him, — 

"  Here  we  are,  Signor  Podesta,"  he  said,  tapping  him 
on  the  shoulder ;  "  it  strikes  me  that  this  man  can  put  us 
on  the  track  ;  leave  him  to  me.  .  .  ." 

And  not  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  began  to  lay  snares 
for  Gennaro  ;  and  in  a  very  short  time  he  knew  from  his 
answers  that  the  lady  was  the  identical  Ginevra  of  whom 
he  was  in  search.  The  clew  was  found ;  all  the  rest 
was  as  child's  play  for  him.  But  in  order  that  he  might 
obtain  access  to  the  monasteiy,  examine  the  place,  and 
arrange  everything  necessary  to  secure  the  woman,  the 
cooperation  of  the  valiant  Podesta  would  be  eminently 
useful.  It  was  therefore  necessary  to  inspire  him  with 
such  confidence  as  to  dispel  from  his  mind  any  fear 
as  to  the  rectitude  of  his  intentions. 

He  took  him  apart,  and  said  :  "  We  must  have  a  talk 
about  this  matter.  Wait  for  me  at  the  Sun  Tavern  ;  in 
the  mean  time,  I  will  see  if  this  wight  can  point  to  me 
the  young  man  who  now  and  then  visits  Ginevra." 

Don  Litterio  went  to  the  tavern,  while  Miguel  led  the 
gardener  to  the  guard-house,  which  was  crowded  with 
ofl&cers  and  soldiers,  and  asked  him,  — 

"  Is  he  among  them  ?  " 

Gennaro  looked  awhile,  espied  Fieramosca,  and  said : 
«  There  he  is." 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  131 

And  Don  Miguel  learned  from  one  of  the  soldiers  that 
he  had  found  whom  he  was  looking  for. 

In  five  minutes  after,  he  was  Avith  the  Podesta  at  the 
tavern,  which  at  that  hour  was  deserted,  and  sat  vis-a- 
vis  at  a  table  with  two  goblets  and  a  decanter  of  Greek 
wine  before  them. 

Don  Miguel  began  to  speak  with  a  countenance  com- 
posed, with  great  modesty  :  "  The  discovery  is  sure.  But 
before  we  go  any  further,  I  have  something  to  tell  you. 
Don  Litterio,  I  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  the  world,  and 
I  pride  myself  in  knowing  honest  men  at  first  sight. 
From  the  little  conversation  we  have  had  together,  I  feel 
confident  to  assure  you  that  a  better  talent  than  yours  is 
not  to  be  found  in  the  world." 

The  Podesta's  countenance  bespoke  a  reply  to  the 
compliment. 

"  No,  no ;  no  thanks.  ...  I  speak  my  mind.  You  do  not 
know  me.  If  I  thought  differently,  I  would  tell  you  in 
plain  words,  Signor  Podesta,  (I  beg  your  pardon),  that  you 
are  an  ass.  Therefore,  if  I  were  an  impostor,  I  should 
look  for  somebody  else.  But,  as  I  pride  myself  in  being 
as  much  of  an  honest  man  as  any  in  the  world,  no  matter 
who  he  may  be,  I  do  not  recoil  from  having  to  do  with  a 
person  who  can  see  very  far.  Now,  I  will  tell  you  all, 
and  I  do  not  intend  that  you  should  rely  only  on  my 
words ;  you  shall  have  proofs,  and  then  you  will  be  satis- 
fied that  you  have  fallen  in  with  an  honest  man." 

Here  he  began  wuth  a  rigmarole  of  his  own ;  that,  in 
his  time,  he  had  been  a  very  great  sinner ;  that,  to  obtain 
pardon  for  his  misdeeds,  he  had  travelled  to  the  holy 
places  of  Jerusalem ;  that  a  hermit  on  Mount  Lebanon 
had  at  last  shriven  him,  enjoining  on  him  for  his  penance, 
that  he  should  travel  the  world  for  seven  years, — that, 


132  ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA. 

whenever  he  met  an  opportunity  of  doing  good  in  any- 
way whatever,  he  should  undertake  it,  even  at  the  peril 
of  his  life,  being  satisfied  with  an  humble  condition, — 
that,  to  comply  with  this  injunction,  he  employ  for  the 
welfare  of  mankind  all  the  learning  he  had  obtained  in 
his  long  travels  through  Persia,  Syria,  and  Egj'pt. 

"  Now,"  he  added,  "  you  can  understand  why  I  feel  so 
anxious  to  free  this  friend  of  yours  from  his  love,  and 
from  those  dangers  which  might  peril  the  eternal  sal- 
vation of  his  soul.  Well,  then,  there  is  no  doubt  that 
that  lady  Ginevra  of  Sant'  Orsola  is  the  woman  in  ques- 
tion. Now  it  must  be  by  your  exertions  that  I  shall  be 
introduced  to  her.  You  mjght  fear  that  I  am  a  bad  man  ; 
and  certainly  you  could  not  feel  warranted  in  leading  into 
that  holy  house  a  man  with  whom  you  are  unacquainted, 
and  certainly  you  would  be  right." 

Don  Litterio  began  to  move  convulsively. 

"  No. ...  I  say  it  again  .  .  .  -you  are  perfectly  right ; 
no  person  carries  the  testimonial  of  his  honesty  on  his 
forehead.  And  there  are  so  many  wicked  people  about ! 
But  I  will  show  to  you  that,  with  the  help  of  God,  I  can 
extract  treasures  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  break  the 
fury  of  a  gunshot,  and  perform  a  thousand  most  difficult 
deeds,  as  you  shall  see  presently,  and  that  the  gain  will 
be  all  on  your  side,  without  my  partaking  of  any  emolu- 
ment, satisfying  myself  with  only  so  much  as  will  support 
ray  frugal  life ;  and  you  will  be  forced  to  say :  *  This  man 
could  be  rich  and  live  in  ease  ;  instead  of  that  he  is  poor 
and  leads  a  life  of  constant  toil ;  therefore  what  he  says 
must  be  true,  and  certainly  he  cannot  be  called  a  wicked 
man.'  One  word  more  and  I  have  done  ;  it  has  been  the 
advantage  of  a  great  many  to  have  met  with  me  ;  I  might 
be  of  use  to  you  also.     Think  of  it  and  make  up  your 


ETTOEE  FIEKAMOSCA.  133 

mind  quickly.  The  penance  I  have  to  perform  constrains 
me  to  travel  incessantly,  and  never  to  stop  in  any  one 
place  more  than  one  week." 

Such  an  appeal,  to  which  the  Podesta  listened  with 
open  mouth,  had  the  effect  to  make  him  feel  ashamed 
that  he  ever  thought  evil.  However,  to  show  that  he  was 
a  wise  man,  he  answered  that,  if  he  could  have  some  proof 
of  the  truth  of  what  Don  Miguel  had  asserted,  he  would 
willingly  lend  him  his  aid  in  whatever  he  could  do  for 
him. 

Having  thus  agreed,  they  parted,  with  the  understand- 
ing that  Don  Miguel  would  come  back  very  soon,  and  in 
the  meantime  he  would  ascertain,  by  some  means  at  his 
command,  whether  there  was  any  hidden  treasure  in  the 
neighborhood. 

Having  prepared  the  Podesta  in  this  manner,  and  per- 
ceiving that  his  plans  had  turned  out  well,  he  resolved  not 
to  lose  time,  but  to  set  the  trap  at  once.  He  went  for 
Boscherino,  and  told  him  that  he  needed  his  assistance  in 
the  Duke's  service.  He,  who  at  the  bare  mention  of  Va- 
lentino's name  trembled  like  an  aspen  leaf,  replied,  without 
even  asking  in  what  kind  of  business  he  was  to  engage  : 
"  I  am  ready."  Don  Miguel,  without  telling  him  any 
more,  said  to  him  :  "  Wait  for  me  outside  the  gates  which 
lead  to  the  bridge  of  Sant'  Orsola." — The  commander  of 
the  French  troops  having  agreed  to  the  truce,  the  soldiers 
enjoyed  the  privilege  of  roaming  around  the  country. 
Boscherino  was  punctual  at  the  rendezvous,  and  so  was 
his  guide,  who  overtook  him  with  a  bundle  under  his  arm. 

If  the  reader  had  any  wish  to  follow  these  two  men,  he 
would  see  them  walking  along  the  shore  to  the  distance 
of  about  a  mile  beyond  the  bridge  which  unites  the  island 
to  the  main  land,  then  turning  to  the  left,  enter  the  dense 


134  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

thickets  of  a  lonely  valley,  and  halt  at  a  little  old  church, 
now  abandoned,  but  formerly  belonging  to  a  cemetery. 
But,  to  avoid  the  tediousness  of  travelling  over  the  same 
road  twice,  we  will  postpone  our  journey  thither  until 
night. 

About  two  hours  before  sundown,  Don  Miguel  made 
his  appearance  alone  in  the  public  square,  approached 
the  Podesta,  who  was  standing  at  the  barber's  shop,  and 
whispered  to  him : 

"  The  place  is  found.  I  will  be  at  the  door  of  your 
house  this  evening  at  the  hour  of  three.  Do  not  keep  me 
waiting." 

And  truly,  at  the  appointed  hour  Don  Miguel  was  at 
the  door.  The  Podesta  came  out,  shut  the  door  again  as 
gently  as  he  could,  and  moving  on  in  silence,  with  light 
steps,  through  streets  and  lanes,  in  total  darkness — there 
were  no  street  lamps  in  those  times — they  soon  were  out 
of  town. 

On,  on  they  went.  They  heard  the  clock  strike  four 
from  the  castle,  but  the  sound  was  heavy,  subdued  as  it 
were  by  the  wind  which  carried  it.  They  had  already 
passed  Sant'  Orsola,  and,  ascending  from  the  shore,  were 
approaching  the  rickety  old  church.  It  was  a  deserted 
tract,  barren,  covered  only  with  clumps  of  dwarf  brambles, 
which  became  more  and  more  wild  as  they  grew.  The 
path  they  had  followed  was  soon  lost  in  sand,  in  which 
they  sank  above  their  ankles ;  now  and  then  they  came 
across  beds  of  torrents,  dry,  and  full  of  gravel  and  of 
large  stones  rolled  on  by  the  waters  ;  but  the  two  travel- 
lers, as  they  overcame  all  these  obstacles,  were  in  a  very 
different  mood  of  mind. 

Don  Miguel,  accustomed  to  travel  more  at  night  than 
by  daylight,  proceeded  with  a  sure  step.     His  companion, 


ETTORE  FIEEAMOSCA.  135 

•who  had  not  perhaps  been  out  of  town  after  sunset  twice 
in  his  whole  Hfe,  felt  his  breath  growing  thick,  looked 
around,  and  in  his  own  mind  cursed  the  moment  he  had 
left  his  house ;  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  he  had  left  it  in  an 
evil  hour.  His  imagination  became  excited,  and  his  heart 
was  a  prey  to  a  thousand  fears,  not  the  least  of  which 
■was,  that  he  was  alone,  away  from  any  house,  and  in  com- 
pany with  a  man  of  whom,  after  all,  he  knew  absolutely 
nothing. 

Still,  from  time  to  time,  he  endeavored  to  feign  courage, 
and  hummed  three  or  four  syllables  —  he  could  not 
muster  strength  enough  for  a  fifth  one  ;  —  then  he  imag- 
ined he  heard  some  noise  from  the  thickets ;  once  in  the 
light  of  a  clouded  moon  he  thought  he  saw  the  figure  of 
a  man  lurking  in  the  shadow,  but  it  afterwards  proved 
to  be  the  trunk  of  a  tree  or  a  rock ;  then  again  he  appre- 
hended he  might  meet  some  form  or  vision  of  departed 
spirits,  and  would  mentally  repeat  some  prayer.  In  this 
happy  frame  of  mind  they  emerged  from  the  underwood 
into  open  space,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  little  church 
stood. 

Outside  the  door  were  painted  skeletons,  bolt  upright, 
with  mitres,  tiaras,  and  crowns  on  their  heads,  and  hold- 
ing in  their  hands  flying  scrolls,  on  which  were  written 
Latin  verses,  such  as  —  Beati  mortui  qui  in  Domino  mo- 
riuntur,  or  Miseremini  mei,  etc. ;  and  although  in  tiie 
moonlight  the  letters  could  scarcely  be  read,  still  the  forms 
of  those  figures  which  were  plainly  visible  produced  a 
great  impression.  Don  Miguel  took  out  a  lantern,  and 
was  about  stepping  over  the  threshold.  The  Podesta 
had  stopped  a  few  paces  behind,  and  understanding  the 
intention  of  his  companion,  let  the  exclamation  "  here  !  " 
escape  from  his  lips  in  a  tone  so  plaintive  and  so  full  of 


136  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

terror,  that  the  thin  and  livid  lips  of  Don  Miguel  curled 
with  a  smile. 

"  It  befits  us  now  to  have  a  stout  heart,  Signor  Podesta, 
because  in  such  places  as  these  nothing  is  obtained  by 
fear  ;  on  the  contrary,  fear  might  prove  the  source  of  seri- 
ous evils.  Your  friend  is  at  work  in  the  name  of  God, 
and  to  prove  to  you  that  in  that  name  only  he  controls 
the  souls  of  the  departed,  let  us  begin  with  prayer." 

He  knelt  down,  and  began  to  run  through  the  Miserere, 
and  the  I^ies  IrcB,  to  which  Don  Litterio  endeavored  to 
answer  as  well  as  he  could,  vowing  in  his  own  heart,  that 
if  he  came  out  of  the  adventure  alive,  he  would  keep  a 
strict  fast  on  the  eve  of  All-Souls.  When  they  had  done 
praying  they  arose.  The  shattered  and  rotten  door,  which 
scarcely  kept  together  on  the  rusty  hinges,  yielded,  and 
almost  fell  to  the  floor  at  a  kick  from  Don  Miguel's  foot. 
In  advancing,  their  clothes  were  torn  by  the  tangled  briars 
which  encumbered  the  entrance. 

Bones  of  the  dead  were  scattered  all  over  the  floor. 
A  bier  crumbling  to  pieces  and  reduced  to  dust  by  the 
wood-worms,  together  with  some  spades,  huddled  together 
in  a  corner,  and  used  God  alone  knows  when,  were  the 
only  furniture  in  the  place.  Hundreds  of  bats,  startled 
by  the  light  carried  by  the  intruders,  flew  around  in  great 
confusion,  with  shrieks,  flapping  their  wings  against  the 
walls,  and  at  last  took  refuge  in  a  Gothic  steeple,  which 
arose  at  the  side  of  the  altar. 

The  place,  the  solitude,  and  the  late  hour,  if  they  were 
not  such  circumstances  as  to  strike  with  terror,  were  un- 
doubtedly calculated  to  inspire  any  one  with  profound 
solemnity ;  and  the  unfortunate  Don  Litterio,  who  when 
the  sun  was  high  above  the  horizon  had  thought  of  the 
moment  without  any  fear,  now  when  he  found  himself  in 


ETTOKE   FIERAMOSCA.  137 

the  situation,  realized  most  distinctly  the  difference  be- 
tween words  and  deeds. 

He  was  looking  at  the  bones  under  his  feet,  at  the 
walls  green  with  dampness,  and  in  different  places  still 
covered  with  old  paintings  ;  and  there  he  stood,  upright, 
in  the  centre,  with  his  hands  clasped  together,  waiting  for 
the  end  of  this  infernal  mystery. 

Don  Miguel  placed  on  the  floor  a  little  bundle  he  had 
carried  Avith  him.  He  took  out  a  conjuring  book,  and 
having  put  on  a  black  stole,  marked  all  over  with  caba- 
listic characters,  began  with  a  rod  to  mark  a  circle,  ac- 
companying the  action  with  a  thousand  mummeries.  He 
marked  an  entrance  in  the  circle,  and  told  the  Podesta  to 
pass  through  it  with  the  left  foot  foremost.  He  then  took 
up  the  pentacle  in  his  hand,  and  began  to  mutter  words 
in  Greek,  Latin,  and  Hebrew,  now  calling  on  hundreds 
of  demons  by  virtue  of  the  Eternal,  now  raising  and 
again  lowering  the  tones  of  his  voice,  and  at  times  making 
pauses,  during  which  the  echoes  of  his  words  died  away, 
rumbling  through  the  vault.  Some  bat  would  occasionally 
dash  by  the  cheeks  of  Don  Litterio,  who  stood  there 
shrinking  and  shaking,  the  very  image  of  despair.  He 
feared  lest  the  originals  of  those  pictures  on  the  walls 
outside  might,  at  any  moment,  come  out  of  their  graves, 
and  he  prayed  to  God  in  good  earnest  to  have  mercy  on 
him,  and  to  render  fruitless  the  incantations  of  his  terrible 
companion. 

As  he  was  there  on  his  knees  recommending  himself 
to  God,  he  felt  a  tap  on  the  shoulder ;  he  raised  his  eyes 
and  saw  a  lurid  light  shining  from  the  corner  under  the 
steeple,  and  a  human  form,  wrapped  in  a  winding-sheet, 
such  as  dead  bodies  are  covered  with,  slowly  emerging 
from  a  hole. 


138  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

The  apparition  stood  motionless,  and  we  need  not  say 
how  the  Mayor  remained.  Don  Miguel  stooped  down  to 
his  ear,  and  said  to  him  : 

"  Hallo !  have  courage ;  now  is  the  moment  to  show 
yourself  a  man  of  stout  heart ;  quick,  be  up,  ask  what 
you  wish."  But  to  no  avail ;  the  Podesta  could  neither 
move,  nor  answer,  nor  even  breathe. 

Don  Miguel  then  spoke  a  few  words  of  an  unknown 
tongue  to  the  apparition,  which  made  no  answer,  but  slow- 
ly raised  its  arm,  pointing  to  a  tomb  the  stone  of  which 
had  ah'eady  been  half  removed. 

"  Do  you  understand  ?  He  means  that  if  we  dig  there 
we  shall  find  as  many  florins  as  will  satisfy  us." 

But  the  wretch  seemed  not  to  hear.  Seeing  that  there 
was  no  hope  of  rousing  him,  Don  Miguel  went  to  the 
tomb,  and  very  easily  let  himself  down.  In  a  little  while 
he  came  out  with  an  earthern  vessel  half  covered  with 
dirt,  and  approaching  the  spot  to  which  the  Podesta  was 
rivetted,  emptied  before  him  a  large  sum  of  golden  coins, 
or  such  as  at  least  appeared  to  be  gold,  which  fell  on  the 
ground  without  having  any  virtue  to  bring  the  breath 
back  to  him  who  had  exposed  himself  to  so  much  hard- 
ship to  obtain  them. 

The  last  coin  had  scarcely  fallen  on  the  heap,  when 
the  door  was  bui'st  open  and  fell  with  a  crash  on  the 
floor,  and  in  bolted  fifteen  or  twenty  ribald  fellows  armed 
with  pikes  and  partisans.  To  point  their  weapons  at 
the  breasts  and  throats  of  the  two  men  was  the  work  of 
an  instant. 

Don  Miguel  had  scarcely  time  to  grasp  with  his  hand 
the  hilt  of  his  sword,  when,  feeling  four  or  five  blades 
ripping  his  cape  and  pricking  his  skin,  he  was  obliged  to 
keep  still,  otherwise  he  would  have  been  dispatched. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  139 

The  Podesta  was  already  so  much  frightened,  that  this 
new  occurrence  made  no  impression  whatever  on  him. 
There  he  remained  with  his  eyes  distorted,  his  head  sunk 
between  his  shoulders,  his  hands  clasped,  and  with  an 
involuntary  movement,  pressing  together  those  fingers 
of  his,  long  and  emaciated,  so  violently,  that  the  nails 
entered  the  skin,  and  said  with  a  voice  half  choked : 
"  Kill  me  not,  I  am  in  mortal  sin."  * 

The  lantern  had  been  upturned  in  the  confusion,  and 
threw  its  light  upon  that  strange  company,  which,  (hav- 
ing for  a  moment  remained  still,  to  make  sure  that  the  two 
prisoners  could  not  and  would  not  defend  themselves,) 
appeared  composed  of  that  sort  of  infamous  outlaws, 
who  in  those  times  Avere  called  adventurers.  "We  now 
call  them  assassins,  and  in  fact  they  were  nothing  else  in 
that  age ;  but  that  name  was  given  then,  to  designate  those 
bands  composed  for  the  most  part  of  soldiers  who  had 
deserted  their  standards  to  unite  under  one  chief,  and 
who  pillaged  the  country  around,  doing  as  much  evil  as 
they  had  opportunity. 

Some  were  protected  with  cuirasses,  some  had  on 
headpieces  of  iron,  others  were  armed  with  poniards  or 
knives ;  many  Avore  hats  in  the  shape  of  cones,  over 
which  were  seen  flying  plumes  or  ribbons.  Many  wore 
sandals  of  goat-skin,  instead  of  shoes,  to  be  better  enabled 
to  climb  mountains. 

We  need  not  portray  their  faces.  Seen  by  the  light 
of  that  lantern,  with  beards  and  moustaches  of  great 
length,  unkempt  and  uncombed,  they  looked  like  so  many 
devils  let  loose. 

*  Even  at  the  present  day  the  brigands  in  the  Campagna  Romana 
make  an  appeal  like  this  to  escape  death  at  the  hands  of  those  whom 
they  have  attacked  on  the  highways.  The  author  remembers  an  as- 
sassin who,  by  an  appeal  of  this  kind,  saved  himself  from  being  killed. 


140  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

One  among  them,  dashing  on  the  floor  the  partisan  he 
held  at  the  throat  of  the  Podesta,  snatched  from  him  and 
his  companion  the  arms  they  had  at  their  sides,  and  shook 
their  garments  to  see  whether  they  had  any  more  weap- 
ons concealed  on  their  persons. 

During  the  melee,  the  apparition,  throwing  away  the 
sheet,  had  become  a  man  of  this  world  again,  and  feeling 
that  there  was  no  time  to  lose,  had  climbed  up  the  stee- 
ple, and  sitting  on  a  joist,  holding  himself  fast  by  some 
projecting  stones,  was  on  the  alert  waiting  for  a  propi- 
tious moment  to  make  his  escape ;  and  thus  concealed 
in  the  dark,  he  was  able  to  watch  the  proceedings  of  that 
night  of  horrors. 

Meantime,  the  chief  of  those  outlaws,  a  youth  of  about 
seventeen,  but  of  fearful  countenance,  of  robust  frame, 
having  a  scar  which  ran  the  whole  length  of  his  forehead 
and  raised  the  eyebrows  an  inch  higher,  swung  such  a 
kick  into  the  sides  of  the  Podesta,  in  order  to  make  him 
rise,  that  he  gave  a  moan  like  one  who  had  lost  the 
power  of  speech.  No  better  specific  could  be  adopted  to 
cure  him  of  his  astonishment ;  he  rose,  not  waiting  for  a 
second  dose,  and  being  drawn  to  one  side  with  Don  !Mi- 
guel,  they  were  tied  up  and  placed  under  guard  of  some 
of  the  band,  while  the  others  were  taking  up  and  count- 
ing the  gold  by  the  light  of  the  lantern.  After  doing  this, 
they  placed  their  booty  in  a  leathern  pouch,  which  the 
chieftain  carried  at  his  belt,  and  all  went  out,  taking  their 
prisoners  in  the  midst,  and  warning  them,  in  such  cour- 
teous terms  as  only  themselves  could  command,  that  they 
should  walk  fast  if  they  wished  not  to  taste  the  points  of 
their  daggers. 

After  having  proceeded  half  a  mile  up  the  hill,  they 
halted  at  a  place  where  there  was  no  trace  whatever  of 
any  path,  and  blindfolded  both  their  captives. 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  141 

The  fright  had  made  the  Podesta  recover  his  voice, 
and  he  begged  for  mercy  like  a  child  ;  the  outlaws  made 
merry  at  his  expense,  but  did  not  hurt  him. 

But  Don  Miguel,  who,  during  that  respite,  thought  of 
the  worst  that  might  happen,  muttered  between  his  teeth : 

"  By ,  we  have  got  it !  "  —  He  attempted  to  enter 

into  some  treaty,  in  order  to  be  released ;  but  as  he 
uttered  the  first  word,  a  blow  from  a  fist  which  made 
him  swallow  a  couple  of  his  teeth,  hushed  his  voice.  As 
he  could  neither  see  nor  talk,  he  listened  intently.  He 
heard  the  thieves  talking  of  dividing  the  money ;  they 
spoke  also  of  a  ransom,  and  debated  among  themselves 
which  of  the  two  would  bring  more  money.  From  the 
discordant  accents,  which  seemed  to  belong  to  various 
dialects,  all  Italian  however,  he  took  notice  of  one 
which  had  a  foreign  sound,  and  he  took  it  for  Ger- 
man ;  but  in  the  midst  of  his  observations,  he  felt  him- 
self lifted  up  by  many  arms,  and  then  placed  on  the 
shoulders  of  two  men,  who  seemed  to  go  in  a  different 
direction  from  the  company,  but  whither  he  could  not 
divine. 

They  travelled  more  than  an  hour,  with  many  halts, 
during  which  the  prisoners  were  thrown  down  not  very 
gently,  while  the  carriers  rested.  Don  Miguel  began 
gi'eatly  to  dislike  the  game ;  he  had  great  horror,  very 
natural  even  to  a  man  of  courage,  of  being  butchered 
like  a  dog  by  those  ruffians ;  and  it  was  no  joke  to  be 
tied  up  so  tightly,  and  to  be  carried  on  the  backs  of 
those  soldiers,  his  limbs  resting  on  the  pointed  angles  of 
their  armor. 

At  last  they  came  to  a  standstill.  A  heavy  door  was 
heard  to  open.  They  entered,  and  the  door  closed  again 
on  its  hinges  behind  their  backs.      Here  the   shackles 


142  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

were  taken  from  Don  Miguel,  the  bandage  from  his  eyes, 
and  he  found  himself  in  a  room,  into  which  a  little  light 
of  the  moon  found  its  way  through  a  fissure.  In  a  cor- 
ner there  was  a  door,  low  and  heavy,  well  guarded 
with  bolts.  It  was  opened,  and  a  voice  gave  order  to 
Don  Miguel  to  go  in.  He  stooped  to  enter,  and  while 
he  stepped  forward,  feeling  with  his  foot  whether  there 
were  steps,  a  thrust  from  the  butt  of  a  pike  behind,  sent 
him  sooner  than  he  Avished  to  the  bottom  of  the  narrow 
stairs,  and  with  so  much  hurry  that  he  could  not  reckon 
with  himself  as  to  the  number  of  steps  he  had  descended. 
A  heavy  bolt  which  was  drawn  across  the  door  with  a 
grating  noise,  convinced  Don  Miguel  that  he  would  have 
no  chance  of  making  his  escape  by  the  way  he  had  en- 
tered. 

The  place  was  entirely  dark.  He  first  felt  of  his 
mouth,  which  ached  exceedingly  from  the  blow  he  had 
received ;  his  hands  were  moist,  (of  course  he  knew  it 
was  blood,)  and  he  discovered  that  from  that  day  for- 
ward he  would  have  to  depend  not  on  thirty-two,  but  only 
on  thirty  teeth. 

"  Had  the  devil  done  his  duty,  and  choked  thee  along 
with  thy  father,  these  Avould  not  have  been  sown  in  the 
woods."  Such  was  the  remark  he  made  thinking  of  him 
who  had  put  him  up  to  that  undertaking. 

Still  he  endeavored  to  encourage  himself,  and  groping 
about  the  place  with  outstretched  arms,  he  tried  to  find 
out  what  kind  of  a  place  he  was  in.  He  perceived  that 
a  little  light  entered  from  a  hole  high  up ;  and  he  thought 
he  heard  the  sea  dashing  against  the  exterior  wall. 
"With  his  feet  he  felt  there  was  some  straw  in  a  corner ; 
he  threw  himself  down  upon  it,  and  disposed  himself  to 
await  the  issue  of  his  adventures. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  reader  needs  not  to  be  told  that  it  was  the  capo- 
squadra  Boscherino  who  had  personated  the  phantom 
under  the  steeple. 

But  we  must  inform  him  how  it  happened  that  a  band 
of  adventurers  was  ready  at  hand  to  interrupt  the  plans 
of  Don  Miguel.     It  happened  thus : 

Don  Litterio  had  a  handsome  and  buxom  servant 
maid,  whose  presence  in  the  family  had  made  people 
entertain  serious  doubts  about  the  integrity  of  his  con- 
nubial faith.  The  girl  had  humored  the  quinquagen- 
arian advances  of  the  master,  but  had  not  been  proof 
against  the  addresses  of  a  groom  who  lived  in  the  house. 
Through  the  channel  of  this  love  the  secret  of  the  mas- 
ter's going  that  night  to  dig  a  treasure,  was  communicated 
to  the  groom. 

He  had  friends  among  the  men  of  the  band  of  Pietrac- 
cio  —  this  was  the  name  of  the  chief  outlaw,  —  and  he 
imparted  to  them  the  communication  on  such  terms  that 
if  the  treasure  were  found,  he  should  have  part  of  it, 
instead  of  its  going  wholly  into  the  master's  pockets. 

Tt  now  becomes  necessary,  before  we  join  company 
with  Don  Miguel  again,  to  give  to  the  reader  an  account 
of  the  places  in  which  the  scenes,  which  we  are  about  to 
relate,  were  enacted. 

At  the  head  of  the  bridge,  which  led  to  the  little  island 


144  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

of  Sant'  Orsola,  stood  a  tower,  square,  massive,  and  very 
much  like  that  seen  by  travellers  on  Ponte  Nomentano 
as  they  go  from  Rome  to  Sabina.  The  issue  from  the 
bridge  was  guarded  by  a  heavy  gate,  a  portcullis  which 
was  let  down  as  the  occasion  might  require,  and  a  draw- 
bridge. A  narrow  winding  stair  led  the  way  to  two 
stories  above  in  which  a  commander  and  his  soldiers 
were  lodged,  and  on  the  top  there  was  a  terrace,  fj-inged 
with  merlons,  from  amidst  which  the  muzzles  of  two  fal- 
conets were  seen  protruding. 

The  Abbess  of  the  Monastery,  invested  with  baronial 
rights,  kept  there  a  company  of  eighty  men  on  foot,  pikes 
and  arquebuses,  over  whom  commanded  one  Martin 
Schwarzenbach,  a  German,  an  adventurer,  who  found  it 
better  for  his  interest  to  lead  a  lazy  life  at  that  post,  well 
paid  and  better  fed,  than  to  go  about  periling  his  life  in 
battles  and  campaigns,  in  which  his  experience  had 
taught  him  that  oftentimes  the  pleasure  of  ill  using  and 
robbing  people  had  been  marred  by  a  bullet  from  an 
arquebuse,  or  by  the  blade  of  a  partisan.  He  had  three 
ruling  passions :  to  keep  aloof  from  blows,  to  steal,  and 
to  drink  as  much  wine  of  Puglia,  as  could  be  poured  into 
his  belly,  Avhich  in  capacity  was  not  very  unlike  a  barrel. 

You  might  have  read  in  his  countenance  these  habits 
of  his  hfe  ;  the  first  two  in  a  pair  of  eyes  equally  full  of 
covetousness  and  cowardice  ;  the  latter  in  a  flaming  ver- 
milion color,  which,  while  the  rest  of  his  face  was  of  a 
livid  paleness,  was  concentrated  entirely  in  his  nose  and 
cheeks.  His  beard  was  thin,  and  in  color  like  that  of 
a  goat,  the  lips  of  a  purple  hue,  and  his  body  seemed 
built  for  the  fatigue  of  a  soldier's  life,  had  not  his  de- 
bauched habits  broken  down  at  the  age  of  forty  years  a 
frame  that  might  have  lasted  to  that  of  seventy. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  145 

All  the  duties  of  this  man's  life  consisted  in  closing  the 
gate  at  night.  There  was  nothing  to  fear  from  the  troops 
then  at  war  in  the  neighborhood ;  they  had  no  hostile  in- 
tentions against  the  Monastery.  The  bands  of  outlaws 
who  overran  the  country  would  not  have  dared  to  attack 
a  strong  tower  guarded  by  eighty  men  and  two  falconets. 
But  there  was  also  another  reason  why  Martin  Schwar- 
zenbach  should  not  fear  any  interruption  in  his  slumbers, 
although  he  was  surrounded  by  such  swarms  of  ruffians. 
The  Abbess  had  hired  him  to  guard  the  monastery ;  but 
he  did  not  believe  that  he  w^as  thereby  bound  to  be  the 
guardian  and  protector  of  the  ducats,  the  florins,  goods, 
and  chattels  of  the  people  living  in  the  neighborhood,  or 
of  the  property  of  those  who  happened  to  travel  through 
it.  However,  as  he  could  not  with  any  decency  go  and 
dive  into  the  pockets  of  the  people,  he  had  (to  use  a 
modern  phrase)  taken  a  share  in  the  stock  managed  by 
Petraccio,  and  lent  him  aid,  detailing  some  of  his  men 
to  help  him,  as  the  occasion  might  require.  He  would 
secrete  money,  goods,  and  even  persons,  whenever  there 
was  a  prospect  of  rich  ransom. 

And  these  operations  were  carried  on  so  cautiously 
that  the  suffei'ers  would  lay  charges  on  any  one  but  Mar- 
tin, who  was  only  looked  upon  as  the  greatest  toper  of  the 
land. 

Don  Miguel  had  now  fallen  into  this  man's-  clutches. 
He  had  been  raking  his  brains  the  whole  night  to  guess 
what  place  he  was  in,  but  could  not  come  to  any  satis- 
factory conclusion.  At  the  first  break  of  day  he  had 
heard  the  guns  from  the  I'ock  of  Barletta  fire  three 
times,  as  was  the  custom  every  morning ;  he  endeavored 
to  climb  up  to  the  loop-hole,  through  which  a  little  light 
entered  into  the  dungeon,  but  the  spiracle  was  so  much 


146  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

encumbered  with  ivy  that  only  a  small  tract  of  the  waters 
could  be  seen.  In  a  little  while  he  saw  the  gardener  of 
Sant'  Orsola  rowing  a  small  boat  with  a  load  of  vege- 
tables ;  then  he  felt  sure  that  he  was  in  the  dungeons 
of  the  tower  guarding  the  entrance  to  the  Monastery. 

Just  as  he  had  let  himself  down  from  his  uncomforta- 
ble position,  the  prison-door  was  opened,  and  two  of  the 
ruffians  on  guard  at  the  tower  oi'dered  him  out,  to  appear 
before  the  Captain. 

That  worthy  was  half  roused  from  his  sleep,  and  being 
still  undressed,  sat  on  the  side  of  a  couch  with  a  desk 
before  him,  encumbered  with  the  remnants  of  a  late 
carousal.  There  was  a  rack  running  all  along  the  wall 
on  which  were  hung  pikes,  cross-bows,  arquebuses,  iron 
coats-of-mail,  and  arms  of  various  kinds.  He  looked  at 
Don  Miguel  as  he  entered,  squinting  his  eyes  as  if  he 
found  hard  work  to  uplift  the  flabby  and  wrinkled  eye- 
lids ;  and  beating  time  on  the  floor  with  the  heel  of  one 
of  his  shoes,  he  said  to  him, — 

"Thou  must  know,  Sir  Thou,  as  I  don't  know  thy 
name,  that  whoever  spends  a  night  at  my  inn  must  pay 
a  hundred  golden  florins,  of  ten  livres  each,  of  the  alloy 
of  the  mint  of  Florence,  or  of  San  Marco,  just  as  he 
pleases.  Otherwise  a  rope  with  a  stone  at  his  neck,  and 
a  bath  in  the  sea,  will  take  him  his  way  scot-free. 
Which  dost  thou  prefer  ?  " 

"  What  will  be  the  best  for  me  will  not  prove  the 
same  to  thee ; "  was  the  dignified  reply  of  Don  Miguel. 
"Yesterday  evening,  you  took  two  of  us  prisoners,  but 
we  were  not  alone  in  the  small  chapel.  There  was  some 
one  whom  you  have  not  seen  ;  but  he  has  seen  thy  party 
and  he  knows  thee,  and  thy  ruffian  deeds  are  known  in 
Barletta  by  this  hour ;  and  in  a  short  time,  thou,  not  I, 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  147 

will  have  to  bathe  in  the  sea,  unless,  however,  thou  dost 
know  how  to  prevent  three  or  four  hundred  Catalans  or 
Stradiotti  from  breaking  down  the  gate  of  this  tower,  or 
unless  thou  canst  prevail  on  them  to  hang  thee  from  one 
of  yon  merlons,  instead  of  wedding  thee  to  the  water,  — 
which,  as  I  perceive,  thou  wouldst  taste  for  the  first  time 
in  thy  Ufe." 

The  last  idea  was  suggested  to  him  at  the  sight  of  a 
quarter  cask  of  wine,  which  was  kept  by  the  German 
at  the  head  of  his  bed,  in  place  of  cross  or  relics. 
•  A  reply  given  with  so  much  arrogance,  raised  the 
anger  of  the  constable,  who,  pulling  his  cap  over  his  eyes, 
said, — 

"  If  thou  thinkest  that  thou  art  dealing  with  a  boy,  and 
can  frighten  me  with  thy  bravadoes,  I  will  tell  thee,  at  first, 
that  I  believe  thee  not,  and  then  even  were  thy  Albani- 
ans, or  whatever  the  devil  thou  dost  call  them,  to  come,  I 
am  in  a  position  not  to  fear  them,  or  the  water,  or  the 
merlons.  .  .  .  And  I  don't  know  what  keeps  me  from 
having  thee  hooked  by  the  throat.  But  I  prefer  the 
sound  of  thy  florins,  rather  than  to  let  the  crows  come 
and  pick  at  thy  eyes.  Then  let  us  come  to  it  and  be- 
stir ;  there  are  the  implements  for  writing ;  order  the 
cash  to  be  paid,  and  then  go  where  thy  ill  luck  will  carry 
thee." 

Don  Miguel  did  not  appear  to  be  in  a  hurry  to  reply, 
but  he  looked  at  the  man  with  the  attitude  of  one,  who 
fearing  naught  for  himself,  was  still  in  doubt  whether  he 
should  take  the  matter  as  a  joke  or  in  earnest.  The 
Captain  began  to  show  anger,  and  seemed  to  be  inclined 
to  carry  out  his  threats,  but  at  last  Don  Miguel  re- 
plied : — 

"  Constable,  thou  likest  florins,  and  wine  pleases  thee 


148  ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA. 

also ;  thou  must  needs  be  a  boon  companion.  Of  course, 
that  is  always  the  case  with  a  good  soldier ;  mischiev- 
ous, a  glutton,  and  without  devotion.  But  what  the 
devil  makes  you  so  cross  ?  Listen,  we  must  be  good 
friends.  True,  thou  shouldst  be  made  to  pay  for  the 
night  thou  hast  ^iven  me ;  and  were  it  not  .  .  .  well, 
I  pardon  thee,  and  in  its  stead  I  will  put  thee  in  the  way 
of  making  money."  Here  he  turned  towards  the  two 
men,  who  had  led  him  in,  and  held  him  still  by  the  arms. 
"  Say,  my  lads,  have  you  nothing  to  do  ?  You  keep 
here  at  my  shoulders  like  the  two  thieves  by  our  Lox'd  I 
Go,  my  boy,"  he  added,  disentangling  himself  from  one 
of  them,  and  slapping  him  playfully  on  the  cheek  ;  then 
ridding  himself  of  the  other  in  the  same  way :  "  Go,  be- 
gone thou  also,  there  is  no  need  of  thee ;  I  can  stand  by 
myself  Meanwhile  go  and  keep  a  look-out  on  the  Bar- 
letta  road,  see  if  any  body  is  coming.  It  takes  so  long 
to  arrange  a  little  business  with  this  lord  of  yours  !  You 
see  yourselves  I  have  no  arms  about  me,  and  I  do  not 
mean  to  swallow  him  with  an  empty  stomach ;  marry, 
it  would  take  a  stomach  far  worse  than  yours." 

The  soldiers  were  puzzled  at  so  great  assurance,  as 
much  as  Martino  was,  and  they  looked  up  to  him  to  read 
his  thoughts  about  the  matter.  He  nodded  with  his  head, 
and  the  soldiers  left.  But  when  he  found  himself  alone 
with  Don  Miguel,  he  took  the  precaution  of  standing  up, 
and  he  kept  his  sword  within  reach. 

"  Conestabile  !  thou  hast  asked  a  hundred  florins  in  ran- 
som for  my  person ;  I  did  not  think  I  should  be  valued  at 
so  low  a  rate ;  and  to  teach  thee  how  to  value  the  like  of 
me,  I  offer  thee  two  hundred  ! "  The  Teuton  opened  his 
eyes  wide,  and  his  mouth  was  watering.  "  Yes,  two  hun- 
dred, and  this  would  be  the  least.  .  .  .    Hadst  thou  the 


ETTOEE  FIEEAMOSCA.  149 

appeai'ance  of  a  man  on  whom  I  could  rely  for  judgment 
and  fidelity,  I  would  put  tliee  in  the  way  to  strike  a  good 
blow,  eh  !  But  it  is  out  of  the  question  ;  it  needs  a  man 
quick  to  act,  of  ready  words,  silent  in  the  proper  time,  — 
in  a  word,  not  a  man  with  a  parsnip  face  and  those  two 
dead  eyes  of  thine,  which  have  as  much  meaning  as  mush 
seasoned  with  oil." 

Martin  thought  he  was  dreaming  as  he  listened  to 
words  of  so  much  impertinence,  and  he  indulged  in  a 
thousand  suspicions  that  perhaps  he  had  in  his  power  a 
prince  or  some  great  man  in  disguise ;  but  he  could  not 
rest  on  any  thought,  and  unable  to  bear  being  made  so 
little  of,  in  his  own  court,  answered, — 

"  But  in  the  name  of  God,  or  the  Devil's  —  may  he 
carry  you !  —  who  are  you  ?  what  do  you  want  ?  Speak, 
because  I  am  tired,  and  I  am  no  man's  fool." 

"  Easy,  easy,  and  have  good  manners,  because  if  I  get 
angry,  I'll  say  no  more,  and  it  will  be  the  worse  for 
you.     Know  then  ..." 

A  soldier  entered,  and  interrupted  Don  Miguel,  say- 
ing,— 

"  Conestabile !  there  is  dust  rising  on  the  road  from 
Barletta ;  they  appear  to  be  mounted  men  ;  at  least  so 
says  Sandro,  who  can  see  the  farthest  of  all." 

The  German  was  roused,  looked  at  the  prisoner,  who 
smiled  maliciously,  and  remarked,  — 

"  There  !  I  have  sold  you.  But  have  no  fear.  Be  on 
the  alert !  and  it  will  end  well.  Go,"  he  added  to  the 
soldier ;  "  and  if  there  is  any  news,  let  us  know  it.  Then, 
as  I  was  telling  you,  know  that  there  is  a  person  in  yon 
monastery,  who  would  much  rather  be  out  in  the  world 
enjoying  herself,  than  be  forever  stumbling  against  crosses 
and  blessed  candles ;  I  need  not  mention  to  you  by  whom 


150  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

she  is  kept  there.  "We  must  go  to  work  in  a  careful  way. 
If  then,  some  night  or  other,  a  boat  should  approach  these 
shores  with  five  or  six  men  for  the  purpose  of  setting  her 
free,  and  the  Gsnestabile  should  hear  some  dogs  bark, 
and  some  slender  voice  cry  for  mercy,  (thou  knowest 
well  that  women  always  cry  two  hours  before  they  are 
touched,)  let  him  not  be  disturbed,  let  him  imagine  it  was 
a  dream,  turn  over  the  other  side,  and  keep  on  snoi'ing ; 
and  this  little  service  will  bring  to  him,  as  if  rained  from 
the  skies,  five  hundred  new  florins  from  the  mint  of  San 
Marco,  or  from  that  of  the  lily,  just  as  he  likes :  and 
morever  it  might  give  him  a  commission  far  better  than 
the  one  he  has  now  from  these  devotees."  Such  an  offer 
placed  poor  Martin  in  great  danger  of  losing  the  only 
good  quality  he  had  mixed  with  so  much  badness,  namely, 
that  of  being  faithful  to  those  who  paid  him.  But  that 
law  by  which  nothing  in  this  world  can  be  perfectly  good 
and  nothing  totally  bad,  saved  him  from  a  total  wreck,  and 
he  made  a  reply  with  the  intention  of  showing  resent- 
ment; but  his  words  betrayed  disappointment  rather 
than  anger: — 

"  Martin  Schwarzenbach  has  held  commissions  in  IVIi- 
lan,  Venice,  and  from  the  Emperor,  and  never  has  he 
betrayed  his  employers.  The  Abbess  of  Sant'  Orsola 
has  paid  him  in  full  to  the  last  day  of  December  1503. 
If  your  honor  is  some  .  .  .  how  do  I  know  ?  .  .  .  some 
Signore  ...  or  if  you  are  making  levies  for  some  Italian 
prince,  and  you  wish  to  hire  me,  well,  let  us  talk  about 
it ;  I  will  parade  my  company  in  your  presence ;  they 
are  thirty  muskets  and  fifty  pikes,  and  all  of  the  age  from 
twenty  to  forty ;  and  as  regards  the  quality  of  the  armor, 
you  would  not  miss  the  tongue  of  a  buckle.  If  we  can 
agree  on  terms,  we  will  be  ready  for  you  on  the  1st  of 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  151 

January  1504,  if  you  wish  it,  and  will  storm  the  Monastery 
and  carry  them  all  off,  even  to  the  cook.  But  before  that 
time,  as  long  as  I  have  a  charge  of  powder,  or  the  blade 
of  a  stiletto,  no  person  will  harm  one  hair  on  the  head  of 
the  nuns  or  of  the  last  lay-sister." 

"  And  can  you,  Sir  Martin,  believe  for  a  moment  that 
I  do  not  know  what  the  duties  of  a  man  of  your  station  in 
life  are  ?  Can  you  believe  that  I  would  dare  to  make 
such  an  infamous  proposition  to  you  ?  You  don't  know 
me.  The  person  of  whom  I  speak  is  neither  nun  nor 
lay-sister,  and  she  is  just  as  much  connected  with  the 
monastery  as  the  barrel  which  you  keep  there  at  your 
nose.  God  bless  your  soul !  you  must  be  a  clever  man 
indeed,  when  you  know  that  only  a  fool  will  run  when  he 
can  as  well  walk  at  his  ease  ;  and  when  you  can  slumber 
away  snugly  indoors  with  half  a  goblet  of  Greek  wine, 
you  must  be  crazy  to  prefer  sleeping  in  the  open  air  and 
with  a  cold  stomach ;  and  when  it  falls  in  your  way  to 
pocket  five  hundred  florins  without  labor,  with  the  good 
will  of  others,  and  with  no  offence  to  God,  you  must  think 
that  such  good  chances  will  not  be  as  plenty  as  berries. 
.  .  .  "Well,  if  there  is  any  sense  left  in  you,  we  can 
arrange  matters ;  make  up  your  mind,  because  these 
horsemen  will  be  here  before  long." 

Like  most  honest  men,  Martin  could  compromise 
with  his  virtue  ;  so  he  replied :  — 

"  If  there  is  no  question  of  nuns,  then  it  is  quite 
another  affair." 

Don  Miguel  was  debating  in  his  own  mind  whether 
he  should  then  reveal  the  name  of  the  woman  whom  he 
wished  to  abduct ;  but  while  there  was  a  lull  in  their  con- 
versation, they  were  interrupted  by  an  altercation  going  on 
at  the  door  of  the  room,  between  two  soldiers  and  an  old 
woman. 


152  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

"  The  devil  choke  thee,  accuracd  hunchback  ;  no  matter 
who  is  inside,  it  is  no  business  of  thine ;  the  Conestabile 
has  other  affairs  to  attend  to  than  to  listen  to  thee." 

Such  was  the  loud  reply  made  by  one  of  the  soldiers  to 
an  old  woman,  whom  he  endeavored  to  keep  away  from 
the  door ;  she  Avas  of  small  size,  very  much  crooked, 
and  had  two  eyes  of  the  color  of  mother-of-pearl  set  in 
scarlet.  She  was  half  inside  the  door ;  but  the  soldier 
had  still  hold  of  her  at  that  point  where  the  neck  joins 
with  the  shoulders,  and  pulled  the  skin  so  that  her  mouth 
had  become  distorted  on  one  side  the  length  of  three 
inches.  The  old  wench  scratched  the  soldiex*'s  hand  with 
her  fingers  which  seemed  made  of  steel,  and  thereupon 
he  let  go  his  hold  so  suddenly  that  she  fell  like  a  re- 
leased spring  on  Don  Miguel,  on  whom  she  upheld  her- 
self, and  thus  was  saved  from  a  blow  aimed  at  her  back 
by  the  soldier's  fist,  and  it  was  by  good  luck  alone  that  she 
escaped  it. 

"Take  that,  thou  bastard,"  she  said,  turning  to  the 
soldier,  who  sucking  the  blood  from  the  scratch  she  had 
inflicted  upon  his  hand,  looked  at  her  as  a  mastiflF  does  at 
a  cat  who  has  scarred  its  nose.  "  Take  that ;  and  if  you 
try  it  again,  you  shall  fare  worse." 

"  And  thou,  ugly  witch,  try  it  again  when  I'm  on  guard 
.  .  .  Sandro  mio,  bless  thy  soul ; "  —  (these  words  he 
uttered,  pursing  the  under  lip  over  the  upper  one,  mimick- 
ing the  old  woman,)  "  let  me  enter  the  monastery  .  .  . 
only  to  say  one  word  to  the  sister  at  the  gate,  to  give  a 
little  lint  for  Scannaprete  who  is  wounded,  and  a  little 
powder  for  Paciocco,  who  is  taken  with  the  fever  .  .  . 
a  little  cancer"  (here  he  resumed  his  natural  tone  of 
voice)  "  that  might  strangle  thee !  Try  it  again,  try  it, 
and  see  how  thou  wilt  like  it.     May  they  tear  my  tongue 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  153 

from  the  very  roots,  as  Valenza,  God  bless  him !  had 
them  uprooted  from  thy  ribald  father's  throat,  if  I  do 
not  dispatch  thee  with  a  benison  thou  so  fully  deservest, 
thou  witch  of  St.  John's  night." 

The  beldam  had  plenty  of  matter  for  a  reply,  and  there- 
fore preferred  not  to  violate  one  of  the  fundamental  rules 
of  the  feminine  code,  which  prescribes  that  women  should 
ever  be  the  last  to  speak,  but  she  was  hurried  on  by 
matters  of  great  importance,  so  she  turned  her  back  on 
Sandro  with  an  air  of  scorn  which  can  better  be  imag- 
ined than  described. 

"  If  you  don't  take  the  matter  in  hand,"  she  said,  ad- 
dressing the  conestahile,  "  it  will  be  a  queer  dance ;  all 
hell  was  in  the  woods  last  night.  The  men  who  were 
out  returned  at  one  hour  before  daylight.  They  had  with 
them  that  ugly  Christian,  who  was  captured  yesterday 
evening  .  .  .  Virgin !  he  looked  as  if  he  had  been  dead 
these  three  days.  But  he  was  not  kept  long  in  fear. 
Pietraccio  has  ripped  him  open  as  he  would  a  young 
kid." 

"  What  ?  "  exclaimed  Martin  and  Don  Miguel,  both 
speaking  at  one  time ;  "  have  they  killed  the  Podesta  ? 
why  ?  where  ?  how  ?  .  .  ." 

"  "What  can  I  tell  you  ?  My  blessed  Virgin  !  Pietrac- 
cio was  trying  to  make  him  understand  that  he  would 
have  to  pay  I  cannot  say  how  many  ducats  for  his  ran- 
som ;  and  you  know  very  well  no  one  can  make  himself 
understood  without  a  tongue.  The  man  stood  there  with 
his  eyes  set,  glassy  ;  and  he  had  the  appearance  of  a  man 
more  dead  than  alive.  The  master  then  wrote  on  a 
paper  what  he  wanted,  and  gave  it  to  him  to  read. 
Worse  than  ever.  He  looked  like  St.  Rochus's  statue  in 
the  Belfiore  Chapel.  Then  Pietraccio  gave  him  three  or 
7* 


154  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

four  slaps  on  the  face,  and  they  had  a  weight,  I  assure 
you  !  No  use,  not  the  least.  At  last  he  grew  mad  .  . 
and  you  know  what  he  is  when  he  is  mad  !  .  .  .  Down  he 
came  upon  him  with  uplifted  hand,  and  plunged  the  hanger 
here  in  the  pit  of  the  stomach.  There  is  no  need  of  tell- 
ing it ;  you  know  how  he  can  work  with  a  knife  ;  he  will 
put  to  shame  even  older  hands.  But  what  can  you  do  ? 
he  is  a  bad  boy !  I  told  his  mother  so,  often  !  —  '  Ghi- 
ta  !  that  boy  is  growing  up  too  ready  with  his  hand ; ' 
but  we  cannot  make  him  change  his  ways." 

These  particulars,  and  the  style  of  rendering  them,  made 
the  two  listeners  start,  although  from  different  motives, 
and  they  could  make  no  reply. 

The  old  woman  went  on :  "  Now  I  will  tell  you  tlie 
rest,  and  then  I  will  go ;  I  have  been  on  my  feet  since 
yesterday.  We  were  lying  down  to  take  an  hour's  rest ; 
and  lo  !  Cocco  d'Oro  comes  running  out  of  breath  :  '  Up, 
quick,  quick,  the  sheriff,  a  band  of  policemen  ! '  .  .  .  We 
start ;  what  do  you  think  ?  They  were  already  under 
Malagrotta,  and  they  were  advancing  post-haste,  and  we 
running  for  dear  life  up  the  mountain.  At  this  moment 
our  people  are  all  shut  up  in  the  cave  of  Focognano,  with- 
out a  morsel  of  bread  or  a  drop  of  water ;  and  there  are 
about  two  hundred  between  soldiers  and  bailiffs  scouring 
the  woods.  May  God  forbid  our  men  should  get  la  man- 
cia  prima  delle  feste.*  Up  with  you,  make  haste,  try  to 
remedy  the  evil  .  .  .  they  must  have  found  the  body  of  the 
Podesta  .  .  .  Holy  Virgin  !  what  a  ruin  is  coming  upon 

*  We  are  at  a  loss  how  to  render  this  Italian  proverb,  which  al- 
ludes to  the  custom  prevailing  in  Italy  with  people  to  call  on  those 
on  whom  they  depend,  or  by  whom  they  are  employed,  at  Christmas 
and  Easter,  to  ofifer  tlie  compliments  of  the  season,  and  to  receive  the 
present  of  some  money.  Literally:  Their  Christmas  gift  before  ChriU- 
mas  arrives. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  155 

us  !  and  —  Ghita  says  —  do  not  forget  that  there  is  noth- 
ing up  thei'e  to  whet  their  teeth  with ;  so  send  up  some 
as  soon  as  you  can. ' 

Uttering  all  this  in  one  breath,  she  saw  on  the  table  the 
remnants  of  the  supper,  and  gathering  them  up  with 
great  haste,  without  asking  permission,  filled  her  apron 
with  bread,  pieces  of  meat,  and  fruits ;  the  wine  left  on 
the  table  she  emptied  into  a  gourd  she  carried  at  her  side, 
drank  what  she  could  not  pour  in  there,  and  wiping  her 
mouth  with  the  back  of  her  hand,  turned  around,  gave  a 
push  to  Sandro  to  clear  her  way,  and  without  even  say- 
ing "  by  your  leave,  sirs,"  went  out. 

Martin  had  a  great  deal  more  business  on  hand,  than 
his  head  was  able  to  attend  to.  With  one  hand  at  his 
beard,  and  the  other  behind  his  back,  he  paced  the  room 
up  and  down,  shaking  his  head  and  puffing.  The  fact 
that  Don  Miguel  had  foreseen  with  so  much  certainty  the 
sudden  start  of  the  troops  from  Barletta,  made  Martin 
have  faith  in  him,  and  he  began  to  think  that  the  captive 
was  actually  the  great  man  he  passed  himself  for. 

He  thought  that  before  all  it  would  be  necessary  to 
come  to  terms  with  Don  Miguel,  lest  he  should  betray 
him  when  those  who  were  in  search  of  the  murderers  of 
the  Podesta  appeared  at  the  tower.  Thus,  having  thrown 
aside  his  haughtiness,  and  with  expressions  which  sounded 
very  much  like  recommending  himself,  he  told  the  stranger 
to  look  upon  him  as  one  devotedly  at  his  service,  promis- 
ing that  he  would  lend  him  aid  in  everything  he  might 
wish. 

Scarcely  had  this  been  agreed  upon,  when  they  heard 
the  tramp  of  many  horses,  just  entering  the  bridge  ;  and 
a  clear  voice,  sounding  like  a  trumpet,  called  out  several 
times  :   "  Conestabile  Schwarzenbach  !  "     He  descended, 


156  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

and  was  met  by  Fieramosca  and  Fanfulla  da  Lodi,  at  the 
head  of  a  troop  of  horsemen. 

The  reader  remembers,  perhaps,  that  the  latter  had 
been  selected  for  one  of  the  chosen  champions  of  the 
Italian  army. 

A  more  desperate  soul  than  his  could  not  be  picked  out 
of  all  the  armed  bodies  then  in  Italy.  He  would  expose 
his  life  to  any  peril  for  the  most  frivolous  cause,  and  often 
even  without  any  cause  at  all.  With  a  head  devoid  of 
all  thought,  he  gave  his  attention  to  pleasure,  and  used 
his  bands  when  necessary.  He  was  as  nimble  as  a 
leopard,  the  tissue  of  his  nerves  perfect,  his  body  supple 
and  well  compacted ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  nature,  knowing 
that  it  was  to  be  the  abode  of  a  soul  endowed  with  a 
boldness  bordering  on  insanity,  had  taken  pains  to  mould 
it  so  that  it  might  be  proof  against  the  most  perilous  ad- 
ventures. He  was  the  son  of  a  man,  who  had  been  in 
the  pay  of  Girolamo  Riano,  had  been  brought  up  amid 
the  din  of  arms  from  his  infancy,  and  had  been  in  the 
service  of  all  the  Italian  States  ;  because,  either  for  quar- 
relling, or  for  misdemeanor,  or  often  through  his  own  in- 
constancy, he  was  forever  in  quest  of  new  masters.  He 
had  been  lately  in  the  service  of  the  Florentines,  and  he 
had  fled  their  banners  for  the  reason  we  are  going  to 
state. 

When  at  the  siege  of  Pisa,  the  storming  of  the  city  was 
attempted,  if  Paolo  Vitelli,  captain  of  the  Florentine 
troops,  had  not  ordered  a  retreat,  and  checked  his  sol- 
diers, who  were  full  of  ardor,  from  pursuing  the  advan- 
tage of  the  first  assault,  Pisa  would  have  certainly  fallen 
that  day.  Vitelli  was  afterward  summoned  before  a 
court,  indicted  for  treason,  and,  as  every  one  knows, 
condemned  to  death.     Fanfulla,  who  was  always  ahead 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  157 

in  every  undertaking,  had  succeeded  in  climbing  up  a 
ladder,  and  in  taking  hold  of  one  of  the  merlons  ;  there, 
whirling  around  his  sword  and  clearing  the  way,  he  had 
already  gained  the  rampart,  and  there  he  showered  around 
such  thrusts  and  passes  and  stabs  and  desperate  blows, 
that  the  rest  might  have  followed  him  with  comparative 
ease. 

At  this  moment,  the  retreat  was  sounded,  and  he  was 
left  alone.  He  could  not  brook  the  idea  of  retreating  ; 
but  at  last  he  came  down,  mad  with  fury,  yelling  with 
rage,  under  a  pelting  storm  of  arrows,  stones,  and  shots, 

—  none  of  which,  however,  harmed  him  in  the  least ; 
and  he  reentered  the  camp  safe  and  sound,  running  like  a 
madman,  and  insulting  every  one  he  met  in  his  way.  In 
the  Captain's  tent  the  Florentine  Commissioners  were 
deliberating  in  council  with  Vitelli.  Fanfulla  dashed 
into  their  midst,  and,  in  a  tower  of  rage,  called  them  trai- 
tors ;  and  with  a  club  which  he  had  picked  up  on  the 
way,  he  began  to  hail  upon  them  blows  from  his  stick, 
from  his  hands,  from  his  toes ;  pushing  them  ;  thrusting 
them  ;  knocking  them  down  ;  giving  no  quarters  ;  listen- 
ing to  no  entreaties ;  caring  not  how,  where,  and  whom 
he  hit.  And  what  with  the  great  power  of  his  arm,  and 
the  suddenness  of  the  attack,  he  made  such  a  rout  among 
them,  that  they  found  themselves  on  the  floor  in  an  in- 
describable uproar  before  they  could  even  think  who  the 
author  of  the  attack  might  be. 

After  an  exploit  of  this  sort,  he  jumped  on  a  horse, 

—  without  taking  leave,  as  we  may  well  imagine,  —  and 
was  already  at  a  good  distance  from  the  camp,  when  the 
chieftains,  having  got  on  their  feet  ag^in,  began  to  think 
of  arresting  him. 

Having  thus  deserted  the  Florentines,  he  had  hired 


158  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

himself  to  Signer  Prospero  Colonna,  and  now  he  was 
quartered  in  Barletta,  with  the  rest  of  tlie  company. 

Boscherino  had  brought  word  to  Barletta  that  the 
Podesta  had  been  captured  by  outlaws ;  but  he  took 
pains  to  convey  the  news  in  such  a  way  that  no  suspicion 
should  fall  upon  him.  The  sheriff,  with  a  posse  of  his 
men,  started  for  the  mountain.  Fieramosca,  Fanfulla, 
and  a  few  horsemen  had  followed  them  ;  and,  sending 
the  bailiffs  forward,  had  halted  to  guard  the  avenue 
issuing  from  the  woods  where  the  little  church  stood. 

The  sheriff  brought  to  them  two  prisoners,  whom  they 
had  secured  with  great  difficulty ;  and  the  party  on 
horseback  led  them  to  the  tower  guarded  by  Martin 
Schwarzenbach. 

When  the  Conestabile  had  reached  the  gate,  those  two 
wretches  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  soldiers  waiting  for  the 
prison  to  be  opened.  One  of  them  was  the  leader  Pie- 
traccio,  a  ferocious  youth,  with  limbs  and  countenance  of 
savage  mould,  with  an  unkempt  profusion  of  reddish  hair 
falling  over  his  eyes,  his  arras  bare,  still  stained  with  the 
blood  of  the  Podesta,  and  pinioned  over  the  breast  with 
cords  that  penetrated  the  flesh ;  he  had  a  downcast  look, 
very  much  like  a  wolf  that  has  been  caught  in  a  trap. 
The  other  prisoner  was  a  woman,  tall,  and  of  handsome 
form  ;  but  hardship,  a  life  of  crime,  and  despair  had  reduced 
her  to  such  a  condition,  that  she  appeared  a  great  deal 
older  than  she  was  in  reality.  In  the  scuffle  Avith  the 
(jensdarmes  she  had  received  a  cut  on  the  head,  and  had 
been  brought  hither  on  the  arms  of  two  soldiers.  They 
laid  her  down  on  the  flags  of  the  entrance,  and  the  shock 
she  then  received  exasperated  the  wound,  made  her  open 
her  eyes,  and  give  a  deep  groan,  while  the  blood  issuing 
from  the  cut  ensan^ruined  her  face  and  breast.     The  dun- 


ETTORE  FIEEAMOSCA.  159 

geon  lately  occupied  by  Don  Miguel  was  opened,  and  both 
the  woman  and  Pietraccio  were  thrown  into  it,  without 
even  untying  their  arms. 

The  soldiers,  having  got  rid  of  these  two,  returned  to 
the  woods  to  secure  other  prisoners,  if  there  were  any 
more.  Fanfulla  went  up  stairs  to  the  room  of  the  Cones- 
tabile,  and  Ettore  improved  those  few  moments  to  visit 
the  guests'  lodgings  at  the  Monastery. 

The  two  women  were  surprised  to  see  him  at  that  un- 
usual hour ;  but  after  the  first  greeting  he  informed  them 
of  the  occasion  that  had  brought  him  there.  As  he  was 
repeating  to  them  the  particulars  of  the  chase  given  to  the 
robbers,  he  told  them  that  a  woman  had  been  taken  with 
their  leader,  and  that,  while  offering  resistance  at  the 
entrance  of  the  cave  where  they  had  taken  refuge,  she 
had  wounded  several  of  the  gensdarmes,  but  at  last  had 
been  felled  by  a  blow  on  the  head  from  a  rapier. 

Ginevra,  affected  at  the  sadness  of  the  event,  resolved 
to  go  to  their  assistance.  She  rose,  and  selecting  what 
she  thought  would  be  needed  from  a  chest  in  which  she 
kept  a  quantity  of  powders  and  liniments,  and  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  had  been  used  on  several  occasions  for 
the  service  of  those  same  assassins,  she  requested  Fiera- 
mosca  to  obtain  from  the  Conestabile  the  key  of  the 
prison. 

lie  started,  and  ascending  through  the  winding  stairs 
to  Martin's  room,  he  heard  a  dragging  of  feet  within  it, 
the  cause  of  which  he  could  not  imagine.  He  pushed  the 
door  which  stood  ajar  and  saw  Fanfulla  in  the  centre  of 
the  apartment  handling  a  long  sword,  which  he  had  taken 
down  fi'om  the  racks,  and  playing  with  it  as  if  with  a 
walking  cane.  He  parried  imaginary  blows,  whii'led  it 
around,  cutting  a  thousand  figures  in  the  air ;  he  aimed 


160  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

thrusts  and  sabre-cuts  in  rapid  succession,  so  that  the 
weapon  had  only  the  appearance  of  a  mist ;  he  could  not 
have  done  less  were  he  to  defend  himself  against  a  whole 
host.  Ettore,  with  one  foot  already  inside,  fell  back  on 
the  other  to  avoid  being  struck,  and  looked  with  a  smiling 
countenance  on  the  mad  joust  which  the  other  carried  on, 
believing  himself  unobserved.  It  was  evident,  that  for 
the  misfortune  of  the  host  the  blows  which  now  were 
aimed  at  the  air  had  not  been  all  harmless.  Either  from 
malice,  or  through  mistake,  one  of  them  had  put  an  end  to 
the  requisitions  of  the  half  cask  which  was  lying  under 
the  bed,  split  in  two  like  a  nut ;  and  the  liquor  was  flow- 
ing towards  the  more  depressed  parts  of  the  floor. 

"  The  must  is  taken  out  of  the  vat  late  this  year,"  said 
Fieramosca  at  last,  with  a  laugh  ;  and  FanfuUa,  turning 
around  at  the  sound  of  the  voice,  let  his  long  sword  fall 
to  the  floor,  threw  himself  on  the  bed  on  his  back  roar- 
ing with  laughter,  and  performed  so  many  antics,  that 
he  actually  looked  as  if  he  had  turned  insane. 

"  What  mischief  hast  thou  been  doing,  thou  raving 
madman  ?  look  there !  look !  we  have  been  here  only 
half  an  hour,  and  thou  hast  done  more  evil  than  a  dozen 
Catalans  would  in  a  whole  week.  .  .  .  And,  Martin  ? 
where  is  he  ?  " 

FanfuUa  became  quiet  at  last,  and  replied :  — 

"  He  was  here  a  while  ago ;  and  he  bragged  that  none 
but  Swiss  and  Germans  knew  how  to  handle  a  long 
sword.  I  told  him  that  he  was  right,  and  begged  of 
him  to  give  me  a  few  lessons,  and  as  I  tried  my  best 
at  it,  I  happened  to  cut  a  notch  in  the  barrel,  —  I'll  be 
hanged  if  I  did  it  on  purpose  !  —  and  he  became  mad  in 
earnest.  See  what  a  beast  of  a  man  he  is !  .  .  .  he 
cannot  make   any  allowance !    and   still  he   knew  well 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  IGl 

that  we  Italian  wretches  do  not  know  how  to  handle  a 
sword  !  To  make  the  story  short,  we  had  some  very- 
ugly  words  between  us,  and  he  left  scolding  and  swear- 
ing. What  wouldst  thou  have  done  ?  Not  caring  to 
carry  on  a  fight  with  a  fencer  of  his  quality,  I  Avished 
him  a  cancher  *  in  the  true  Lombardy  fashion,  and  said 
to  him:  If  you'll  condescend  to  come  out  to  the  field 
m  front  of  the  toAver,  I  will  make  a  notch  in  your  Ger- 
man noddle,  that  will  prove  to  you  that  the  cut  in  the 
barrel  was  by  mere  accident." 

"  And  what  did  he  reply  ?  " 

"  That  I  should  begone,  that  he  was  sick  of  me." 

To  utter  these  words,  and  to  roll  over  and  over  on  the 
bed,  scattering  everything  in  all  directions,  was  the  work 
of  an  instant.  The  Captain,  not  feeling  disposed  to  med- 
dle any  more  with  that  devil  of  a  man,  and  on  the  other 
hand,  feeling  very  sore  for  the  loss  of  his  wine,  gave 
vent  to  his  anger  in  German  curses,  and  hid  himself  in 
a  rickety  old  room  on  the  second  story,  where  Don 
Miguel  had  ensconced  himself.  From  that  place  of  se- 
curity he  heard  FanfuUa  giving  his  version  of  the  story, 
and  now  and  then  he  let  a  valve  open  for  the  outpouring 
of  his  indignation  in  some  villainous  expressions,  to  which 
FanfuUa  responded  in  tune,  introducing  his  narrative  by 
way  of  parenthesis. 

Fieramosca,  who  naturally  abhorred  such  vulgar  jokes, 
interfered,  and  with  much  ado  succeeded  at  last  in  recon- 
ciling them.  Martin  came  down,  FanfuUa  went  his  way 
in  a  glee,  and  even  Ettore  could  scarcely  refrain  from 
laughing,  to  see  the  German  eyeing  the  two  halves  of 
his  barrel,  with  the  look  of  a  miser  who  opens  his  coffbr 
and  finds  it  empty.  At  last,  Ettore  made  known  that 
*  Lombardian  for  cancer. 


162  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

Ginevra  wished  to  visit  the  prison,  and  with  courteous 
words  requested  that  she  might  be  admitted  to  it. 

Meantime  the  Conestabile  had  set  up  again  the  two 
halves  of  his  cask,  and  using  a  piece  of  cloth  in  place 
of  a  sponge,  he  began  soaking  it  in  the  wine,  and  then 
squeezing  the  liquor  with  great  care  into  those  recep- 
tacles, in  order  to  save  at  least  the  remnants  of  his 
defeat.  When  he  had  heard  the  request  of  Ginevra,  he 
grumbled  and  grunted  :  — 

"  There !  assassins  meet  friends  ready  to  give  them 
succor,  and  a  poor  fellow  who  minds  his  own  business,  and 
does  not  even  hurt  the  bread  he  eats,  falls  in  with  mad 
people  who  sack  his  house." 

"  My  dear  Sir  Martin,  you  are  certainly  right ;  but 
you  see  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

''Now  I  suppose  it  is  my  fault.  Did  I  go  forth  to 
beg  of  them  to  come  and  have  a  merry  time  in  my 
quarters  ?  " 

Fieramosca  kept  urging  his  request. 

"  Well,  well,  come  within  half  an  hour,  and  I'll  let  you 
into  the  prison  .  . .  that  you  may  all  perish  therein.  . .  ." 
He  muttered  these  last  words  between  his  teeth ;  but 
Fieramosca  was  already  half  way  down,  and  could  not 
hear  him. 


CHAPTER    XL 

Martin  and  Don  Miguel  saw  that  the  capture  of 
Pietraccio  and  of  his  mother  might  entail  serious  con- 
sequences upon  the  one,  and  interfere  with  the  projects 
of  the  other.  They  had  a  consultation  about  it,  and 
agreed  that  it  was  necessary  to  effect  the  escape  of  the 
assassin,  and  thus  avoid  his  being  brought  to  Barletta, 
where  he  might  expose  the  conduct  of  the  Captain.  But 
there  was  great  peril  in  eiFecting  this  without  involving 
the  keeper  in  serious  difficulties. 

When  Fieraraosca  came  to  obtain  leave  to  visit  the 
dungeon,  the  Captain  had  not  yet  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  his  quarrel  with  Fanfulla,  and  at  first  he  could 
not  see,  whether,  if  he  should  grant  the  request,  it  would 
further  his  plans,  or  rather  interfere  with  them.  How- 
ever, he  had  wit  enough  to  take  time,  and  trusting  in  the 
cunning  of  his  new  acquaintance,  he  went  up  stairs,  hop- 
ing that  Don  Miguel  would  find  the  way  of  getting  him 
out  of  his  perplexity.  The  Spaniard,  upon  hearing  Fie- 
ramosca's  request,  remarked  :  — 

"  Had  we  offered  him  a  bribe,  he  could  not  serve  us 
better.  Leave  the  whole  to  me,  Conestabile,  and  you  will 
see  whether  I  know  how  to  woi'k.    But  .  .  .  remember  ! " 

"  All  right,  say  no  more.     But  .  .  .  the  nuns  ! " 

"  The  nuns !  "  replied  Don  Miguel  with  a  smile  ;  "  we 
will  not  touch  them  ;  be  easy  about  that.  Now  give  me 
the  keys  of  the  dungeon,  and  wait  for  me  here." 


164  ETTOKE  FIERAilOSCA. 

He  took  the  keys,  went  down  stairs,  and  opened  the 
door  very  cautiously.  He  listened,  and  heai'd  the  mother 
and  son  conversing  together ;  he  halted  on  the  first  of  the 
four  or  five  steps  which  led  down  to  that  hole,  and  by 
stretching  his  neck  he  was  in  a  position  to  hear  and  see 
those  wretched  creatures. 

The  woman  had  been  laid  down,  her  head  resting  on 
a  log  in  a  comer  of  the  prison,  but  the  excitement  and 
the  struggle  had  brought  on  a  violent  fever,  and  while 
tossing  about  in  wild  frenzy,  her  face  had  fallen  on  the 
damp  earth,  and  she  had  not  been  able  to  raise  it  again. 
The  son,  with  his  arms  tied  on  his  breast,  had  endeavored 
to  bring  her  some  relief,  but  in  vain ;  at  last,  in  despair, 
he  knelt  by  her,  his  eyes  wandering  with  a  vacant  gaze 
from  the  mother  to  the  walls. 

The  woman  strove  from  time  to  time  to  lift  her  head, 
but  she  was  too  weak  to  help  herself.  The  boy  made 
another  effort  and  succeeded  at  last  in  placing  his  knee 
under  her  head,  and  restoring  his  mother  in  her  former 
position ;  but  the  jerk  gave  her  a  fit  of  pain  so  acute  that, 
bringing  her  hands  to  her  head  and  giving  a  long  pitiful 
moan,  she  said : 

"  Accursed  be  the  rapier  of  the  Calabrian  thief !  But 
if  the  fiend  will  allow  me  only  two  minutes  .  .  .  thou 
shalt  at  last  hear  thy  own  histoiy:  .  .  .  What  use  in 
praying  to  God  and  Saints  ?  when  have  they  hearkened 
to  me  ?  .  .  .  "  And  here,  raising  her  half-spent  eyes 
towards  the  vault,  she  uttered  blasphemies  enough  to 
make  the  hair  stand  on  end  of  any  one  but  Pietraccio. 

"  And  still,"  she  continued,  her  ferocious  despair  hav- 
ing subsided  into  an  expression  more  distressing  and 
equally  deep,  "  still  I  too  have  entertained  hopes  of 
forgiveness !   .  .  .   when   I  sang   with   the  rest  in   the 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  165 

church  !  .  .  .  Accursed  be  the  hour  I  passed  that  thresh- 
old !  .  .  .  But  Avhat !  The  Devil  had  me  before  I  was 
bom  !  .  .  .  I  have  endeavored  to  break  loose  from  him  ! 
.  .  .  Behold  how  I  have  succeeded !  .  .  ."  Then,  look- 
ing up  to  the  vault  again  with  an  expression  which  it  is 
impossible  for  language  to  describe  — "  Art  thou  satis- 
fied ? "  —  And  she  turned  to  her  son :  "  If  thou  canst 
ever  escape  from  here ;  ...  if  thou  art  a  man  ...  he 
who  has  caused  my  death  and  thy  ruin  must  bum  with 
me  forever,  if  there  be  truth  in  what  we  are  taught. 
That  night  in  Rome,  when  I  posted  thee  at  Tor  Sanguina 
to  murder  that  gentleman,  and  thou,  the  fool !  —  didst 
make  noise  before  striking  the  blow,  and  thus  wert  taken 
and  made  what  thou  art  now  .  .  .  that  man  was  Cesare 
Borgia !  .  .  .  "When  he  was  at  the  university  of  Pisa, 
and  I  at  school  in  a  convent  of  the  same  city,  he  fell  in 
love  with  me,  and  I  with  him,  —  the  infamous  wretch  and 
fool  that  I  was  !  —  But  I  did  not  know  him !  .  .  .  After- 
wards he  came  one  night  to  me  ...  I  had  a  little  daugh- 
ter of  mine,  seven  years  old,  with  me  .  .  .  she  awoke 
.  .  .  she  slept  in  a  small  room  near  by  .  .  .  she  saw  him 
climbing  over  a  window ;  she  gave  a  loud  shriek  .  .  . 
woe  to  him  had  he  been  discovered !  ...  for  he  had  just 
been  proposed  for  the  bishopric  of  Pampelona  ...  he 
threw  pillows  on  her  head  .  .  .  and  pressed  on  them 
with  his  knees  .  .  .  Ah !  the  fiend  !  I  fell  to  the  ground. 
.  .  .  Swear  here  by  hell,  by  my  death,  that  thou  wilt 
kill  him  ;  give  me  a  sign  with  thy  head  that  thou 
swearest  it  ...  at  least  this  much  .  .  ." 

The  assassin,  with  a  pair  of  eyes  fearfully  glaring  over 
his  mother's  countenance,  tossed  his  head  and  nodded  that 
he  would ;  and  the  woman,  taking  fi'om  her  neck  a  chain 
which  she  concealed  under  her  garment,  continued : 


166  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

"  And  when  thou  hast  cut  his  heart  open,  say  to  him  : 
look  at  this  chain  .  .  .  (dash  it  on  his  eye)  .  .  .  my  moth- 
er returns  it  to  you  ...  I  have  not  yet  done  ...  oh !  one 
moment  more  !  then  I'll  be  ready  .  .  .  when  I  recovered 
I  found  myself  stretched  on  my  couch  .  .  .  thou  art  .  .  . 
oh !  I  cannot  couple  thy  name  with  that  of  poor  Inez. 
Oh  !  how  beautiful  she  was  ...  oh  !  thou  art  in  heaven 
now  !  .  .  .  and  I !  .  .  .  I !  .  .  .  why  should  I  go  to 
hell  ?  .  .  ."  These  last  words  were  uttered  with  a  yell 
which  shook  the  very  vault.     She  was  dead  ! 

Pietraccio  did  not  appear  much  moved  ;  with  a  stupid 
eye  he  watched  the  last  convulsions  of  his  mother.  When 
he  saw  her  dead,  he  crawled  to  the  most  distant  comer, 
just  as  the  savage  beast,  shut  up  in  a  cage  with  the 
carcass  of  one  of  its  own  species,  recoils  with  horror. 

"What  the  mother  had  revealed  to  him  in  broken 
phrases,  and  in  a  delirious  fit,  he  had  understood  but  par- 
tially. But  it  had  sunk  deep  into  his  mind  that  he  was 
to  revenge  many  wrongs  on  Cesare  Borgia,  but  especially, 
he  thought,  because  his  cruelty  had  reduced  him  to  the 
condition  in  which  he  lay  now. 

But  those  revelations  had  affected  Valentino's  hireling 
in  a  far  different  manner.  Had  you  seen  him  in  those 
moments  you  Avould  have  thought  that  every  word  of  the 
unfortunate  woman  lessened  his  vitality,  so  much  he 
changed  in  appearance. 

When  she  fell  to  the  floor  it  was  with  great  difficulty  he 
held  himself  on  his  feet. 

With  faltering  steps  he  went  down,  and  with  a  trem- 
bhng  hand  he  cut  the  cord  which  bound  Pietraccio.  He 
gazed  for  a  moment  on  the  chain,  which  the  prisoner  had 
instantly  placed  around  his  neck,  and  then  said  : 

"  In  a  few  moments  a  gentleman  and  lady  will  come  to 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  167 

see  thee.  Their  object  is  to  set  thee  free ;  but  let  it  not 
appear  that  it  is  their  doing.  Be  quick  ;  and  while  they 
will  try  to  attend  to  the  woman  to  see  whether  she  can 
be  helped,  up  with  thee,  take  to  thy  heels ;  fly,  and  look 
sharp  that  they  shall  not  catch  thee  again ;  thou  art 
already  condemned  to  death." 

He  had  scarcely  uttered  these  words,  when,  as  if  he 
stood  on  burning  coals,  he  glanced  almost  by  stealth  and 
with  a  sickening  feeling  at  the  woman,  left  the  poignard 
in  Pietraccio's  hands,  and  swift  as  lightning  hurried 
away  and  regained  the  Conestabile's  apartment.  At  the 
proper  time  we  shall  see  how  much  even  the  ribald  soul 
of  Don  Miguel  was  troubled  by  what  he  had  seen  and 
heard. 

And  here  we  seem  to  hear  the  reader  exclaiming : — 
When  will  there  be  an  end  to  all  these  agonizing  accounts 
of  assassins,  traitors,  dungeons,  deaths,  devils,  and  worse  ? 

But,  to  please  our  reader,  while  we  have  been  so 
fortunate  as  to  guess  his  thoughts,  he  has  not  been 
equally  fortunate  in  giving  us  credit  for  the  resolution 
which  we  had  already  made  of  putting  an  end  to  these 

stories    and   send   to   the Martin   and   Pietraccio. 

We  must  in  a  confidential  way  declare  that  they  were 
growing  loathsome  even  to  us,  —  and  we  were  just  about 
inviting  our  readers  to  transfer  themselves  to  the  very 
centre  of  the  Barletta  castle,  which  will  present  a  far  dif- 
ferent appearance  from  that  when  we  last  met  there  in 
company  with  Don  Miguel. 

The  court-yard  and  the  terraces  were  spread  with  silk 
tapestry  of  all  colors,  decorated  with  wreaths  of  myrtle 
and  laurel,  forming  festoons  and  emblematic  figures ;  and 
all  the  banners  and  flags  of  the  army  were  streaming 


168  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

from  windows  and  balconies.  A  multitude  of  idle  spec- 
tators, and  of  menials  busy  in  aiTanging  everything,  were 
swarming  round,  now  crowding  upon  each  other,  then 
again  dispersing  through  staircases,  piazzas,  and  the 
court-yard.  Soldiers,  workmen,  servants,  and  boys  ran 
to  and  fro  carrying  tools,  shouldering  ladders  and  every 
kind  of  furniture  to  set  up  the  tables  or  to  decorate  the 
theatre.  There  was  an  abundance  of  provisions,  fruits, 
wines  and  venison  presented  by  the  gentlemen  of  the 
city  and  of  the  army,  with  an  emulous  earnestness  as  to 
who  might  do  the  most  in  honor  of  the  Spanish  Cap- 
tain. It  was  the  tumult  of  a  people  going  and  coming, 
calling  each  other,  hallooing  to  each  other,  clamoring ;  in 
a  word,  an  undescribable  uproar  and  confusion. 

As  the  tower  bell  struck  the  hour  of  fourteen,  the  great 
Captain  made  his  appearance  at  the  head  of  the  grand 
outer  staircase,  attended  by  all  his  barons.  He  wished  to 
show  by  the  gorgeousness  of  his  attire  and  of  his  train 
the  joy  he  felt  at  the  arrival  of  his  daughter ; —  a  courier 
had  just  announced  that  she  was  three  miles  from  Bar- 
letta. 

Over  a  short  gown  of  frizzed  gold  cloth  he  wore  a  cape 
of  flaming  purple  velvet,  lined  with  rich  sable-skin,  and 
his  head  was  covered  with  a  cap  of  similar  materials.  On 
a  sapphire-studded  dasp  rose  an  artificial  plume  made  of 
the  finest  pearls,  strung  together  with  a  thread  of  steel, 
and  it  waved  over  his  brow  resembling  real  feathers. 
The  sword  and  the  poniard,  sheathed  in  velvet  also  of 
flaming  purple,  dazzled  the  eye  with  a  profusion  of  jewels ; 
and  on  his  lefk  breast  he  wore  the  decoration  of  the  order 
of  San  Yago,  a  sword  embroidered  in  red. 

A  white  mule  from  Catalona  was  kept  in  waiting  for 
hira  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs ;  it  was  covered  by  a  long 


ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA.  169 

foot-cloth  of  watered-silk,  dyed  in  violet,  embroidered 
with  gold,  and  reaching  to  the  ground.  As  soon  as  he  had 
mounted  his  mule,  his  attendants  mounted  their  horses, 
and  the  cavalcade  started  to  meet  the  Lady  Elvira. 

Prospero  and  Fabrizio  Colonna,  dressed  in  rose-colored 
calamanco,  with  a  great  deal  of  silver  embroidery,  rode  on 
each  side,  upon  two  Turkish  horses,  the  handsomest  that 
had  been  for  a  long  time  seen  in  Italy.  The  two  leaders, 
though  past  their  manhood,  sat  on  high  saddles  covered 
with  velvet,  and  managed  their  fiery  steeds  with  a  dex- 
terity so  graceful,  as  to  prove  themselves  to  be  the  great 
soldiers,  who  were  applauded  as  the  best  leaders  to  be 
found  in  any  army  of  those  times. 

Amongst  the  attendants  Pedro  Navarro  was  remarked 
by  his  stern  and  bulky  appeai-ance ;  he  was  the  inventor 
of  mines,  which  had  served  so  well  at  the  taking  of  Castel 
deir  Uovo.  Diego  Garcia  de  Paredes,  sui'named  the 
Hercules  of  his  own  time,  who  always  appeared  encased, 
in  iron  armor,  having  no  apparrel  fit  for  such  an  occasion 
had  contented  himself  with  having  his  arms  burnished 
more  cai'cfully  than  usual,  and  had  chosen  the  most  fiery 
of  all  the  horses  he  had  in  his  stable.  It  was  a  large 
stallion  from  Calabria,  lassoed  only  a  few  weeks  before, 
tall,  of  powerful  limbs,  as  black  as  a  raven  without  a 
speck  of  any  other  color. 

Paredes  alone  dared  and  was  able  to  manage  the  wild 
animal,  which,  accustomed  to  the  woods,  hemmed  in  now 
by  such  a  throng,  and  hearing  so  much  noise,  had  become 
furious,  snorted,  puffed,  and  foamed  like  a  lion. 

But  the  rider's  height,  his  ponderous  armor,  and  the 
aid  of  a  bit  certainly  of  half  arm's  length,  which  drew 
blood  from  the  mouth  of  the  horse,  tamed  him  down,  and, 
after  having  given  vent  to   his  fury  in  a  hundred  antics 


170  ETTOKE  FIERAMOSCA. 

and  jumps  —  people  were  not  slow  in  making  room  for 
him  —  he  took  the  wise  resolution  of  not  deeming  himself 
stronger  than  Diego  Garcia,  who,  sealed  to  the  saddle, 
seemed  to  enjoy  those  vain  efforts. 

The  flower  of  the  Italian  youths  mingled  on  terms  of 
equality  with  the  Spanish  barons.  Ettore  Fieramosca  rode 
between  his  two  dearest  friends  Inigo  Lopez  de  Ayala 
and  Brancaleone  ;  he  wore  a  mantle  of  azure  satin  with 
embroidery  in  silver,  the  work  and  gift  of  the  women  at 
Sant'  Orsola.  He  was  renowned  as  the  best  horseman 
in  the  army.  He  mounted  a  beautiful  animal  of  pearl 
color  with  black  mane,  a  present  from  Signor  Prospero, 
and  it  had  been  so  well  trained  by  him,  that  he  seemed 
as  if  he  knew  the  will  of  his  lord  without  hint  of  sjiurs 
or  bridle. 

Fieramosca  seemed  endowed  with  the  special  gift  of 
ever  appearing  to  the  greatest  advantage  in  everything, 
.  before  every  one,  and  in  every  place. 

The  form  of  his  limbs  was  perfect,  and  their  elegant 
contour  was  shown  by  the  cut  of  his  white  satin  dress 
fitted  tight  to  the  person,  with  scarcely  a  wrinkle  at  the 
thighs  and  legs.  He  was  so  handsome,  his  carriage  so 
graceful,  that  as  the  cavalcade  passed  along  the  streets, 
the  crowds  gazed  only  at  him,  and  they  admired  him 
above  all.  The  youth  was  conscious  of  his  triumph,  but 
he  felt  almost  ashamed  to  catch  himself  in  a  thought 
scarcely  pai'donable  in  the  softer  sex. 

At  last  came  the  squires  of  these  leaders  ;  and,  accord- 
ing to  the  custom  of  those  times,  every  master  tried  to 
have  in  his  train  men  of  all  nations,  and  the  more  out- 
landish and  barbarous  they  were  the  more  valued  they 
would  be.  There  might  be  seen  Turkish  Spahis  with 
their  small  scaly  cuirasses   and  armed  with  scimetars ; 


ETTORE   FIEKAMOSCA.  171 

men  from  the  kingdom  of  Granada  with  Moorish  lances, 
archers  from  Tartary,  from  whom  Prospero  Colonna  had 
chosen  his  two  attendants,  arrayed  in  very  gaudy  colors 
with  bows  and  quivers  of  silver.  There  were  also 
Ethiopians  from  the  Upper  Egypt  armed  with  long 
arrows ;  and  their  barbarous  appearance  making  a  con- 
trast with  European  faces,  exhibited  a  sight  full  at  once 
of  variety  and  great  beauty. 

All  the  artillery  from  the  towers  and  barbacans  of  the 
castle,  and  the  tolling  of  all  the  bells  of  the  town  hailed 
the  noble  Gonzalo  as  he  started.  In  the  midst  of  so 
much  noise,  the  clangor  of  trumpets  and  the  sound  of 
music  was  heard  from  time  to  time,  producing  a  harmony 
which,  if  not  perfectly  in  unison,  seemed  at  least  to  ex- 
press the  martial  glee  which  animated  the  troops. 

A  message  was  then  conveyed  to  Gonzalo  that  the 
Duke  of  Nemours  had  already  entered  Barletta  with  his 
barons  ;  therefore,  he  halted  and  despatched  some  of  his 
suite  to  meet  him  ;  and  in  a  few  moments  the  French  were 
seen  to  enter  from  the  opposite  end  of  the  square. 

The  Duke,  perceiving  that  Gonzalo  was  dismounted 
and  was  advancing  to  meet  him,  alighted  also,  and  after 
they  had  pressed  each  other's  hands  with  a  noble  greet- 
ing, the  Frenchman  courteously  remarked  that  he  would 
deem  it  great  injustice  if,  being  invited  to  the  feast,  he 
should  come  to  disturb  it,  as  would  happen  in  case  the 
father  were,  even  for  one  instant,  delayed  in  embracing  his 
daughter.  He  knew  that  they  were  going  to  meet  her, 
and  he  begged  to  be  allowed  to  join  company  with  them, 
feeling  sure  that,  although  the  war  rendered  them  ene- 
mies, the  Spanish  General  would  rank  him  among  the 
first  to  admire  his  valor,  his  wisdom,  and  all  his  noble 
qualities.  —  Such  words  could  not  but  meet  with  a  return 


172  ETTOEE   FIERAMOSCA. 

of  even  greater  courtesy.  The  two  Generals  mounted 
their  horses  again  and  headed  the  cavalcade,  while  their 
retinue  followed,  mingled  indiscriminately,  with  that  inter- 
change of  courtesies  in  which  the  French  have  always 
been  the  masters. 

They  had  proceeded  about  a  mile  from  the  gates,  when 
the  gay  and  gallant  equipage  was  met  by  the  train  which 
escorted  the  horse-litter,  carrying  the  Lady  Elvira  to 
her  father's  camp. 

She  was  attended  by  Vittoria  Colonna,  daughter  of 
Fabrizio,  who  was  afterwards  wedded  to  the  Marquis  of 
Pescara,  and  became  so  celebrated  for  her  fortitude,  vir- 
tue, and  wisdom.  Gonzalo  dismounted,  and  hastened 
forward  to  embrace  his  daughter,  who  had  alighted  from 
the  litter,  and  fondly  pressed  her  to  his  heart,  calling  her 
Hija  de  my  alma,  (child  of  my  soul,)  and  lavishing 
such  caresses  on  her  as  made  great  contrast  with  the 
stem  gravity  of  so  great  a  man. 

He  had  appointed  Ettore  and  Inigo  to  attend  on  his 
daughter  as  squires,  and  they  advanced  leading  a  Span- 
ish jennet  for  her  to  ride  on.  The  Italian  youth  bent  on 
one  knee,  and  the  maiden,  lightly  placing  the  tip  of  her 
foot  on  the  other,  seated  herself  on  the  saddle  with  so 
much  grace  that  none  could  wish  to  see  better.  The  pale 
brow  of  Fieramosca  became  suffused  with  a  gentle  Ver- 
million, when  on  his  rising  Lady  Elvira  returned  thanks 
to  him  with  such  a  smile,  and  with  such  a  look,  which  at 
once  bespoke  her  great  satisfaction  in  the  choice  made 
of  the  handsome  young  knight  for  her  squire. 

In  consequence,  perhaps,  of  the  over-tender  indulgence 
on  the  part  of  her  father,  her  manners  had  not  that  ma- 
turity of  wisdom  which  might  be  otherwise  expected  in  a 
young  woman  of  twenty.     She  did  not  always  temper 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSOA.  173 

her  warm  heart  and  her  fervid  imagination  to  that  correct- 
ness of  judgment,  which  is  so  seldom  witnessed  in  either 
sex,  and  which  is,  however,  after  virtue,  the  most  valua- 
ble jewel  of  the  soul. 

Her  friend  Vittoria  Colonna  blended  that  quality  with 
the  acuteness  and  the  quickness  of  a  very  prompt  mind. 
Although  they  could  be  styled  both  equally  handsome, 
still  two  beauties  of  more  different  cast  could  not  be 
found.  The  sparkling  eyes  of  the  Lady  Elvira,  her 
constant  smile,  the  effect,  perhaps,  of  an  innate  sense 
that  made  her  feel  that  by  it  she  would  please  more, 
made  at  first  great  impression ;  the  majestic  and  truly 
Roman  features  of  Fabrizio's  daughter,  her  handsome 
face,  not  very  unlike  that  given  by  the  Greek  sculptors 
to  the  Muses,  a  hallowed  ray  that  beamed  between  her 
eyelids,  worked  their  way  into  the  heart  in  a  far  different 
manner,  and  there  engendered  an  affection  and  a  wonder 
which  could  not  be  easily  effaced.  An  observing  eye 
might,  perhaps,  have  imagined  there  was  in  her  a  light 
dash  of  conceit.  If  there  was  any,  her  great  virtue 
enabled  her  afterwards  to  correct  it,  and  turn  it  to  good. 


CHAPTER  XIL 

The  whole  company  alighted  at  the  castle  on  their  re- 
turn. The  new  guests  were  introduced  to  the  best  apart- 
ments ;  and  the  cortege  being  broken  up,  every  one  went 
to  prepare  for  the  chase  and  the  tournaments  which 
were  to  be  held  during  the  day. 

The  square  had  been  enclosed  with  a  palisade,  outside 
of  which  steps,  platforms,  and  galleries  were  built  all 
around,  decorated  in  the  best  style ;  and  in  small  houses 
built  for  the  purpose,  there  had  been  kept  for  several  days 
bulls,  heifers,  and  wild  buffaloes,  destined  for  the  exhibi- 
tions so  much  liked  by  the  Italians  of  those  times,  and  in 
which  even  gentlemen  of  the  first  rank  did  not  disdain  to 
take  pai-t.  Within  these  lists,  which  were  well  enclosed 
and  admirably  arrayed  for  the  display,  the  tournament 
was  to  take  place.  A  great  confluence  of  persons  had 
assembled  and  alx-eady  filled  every  spot ;  the  roofs,  the 
windows  of  the  adjoining  houses,  and  every  available 
situation  were  crowded  with  spectators.  Pursuivants, 
and  servants  dressed  in  corsets  of  various  hues  and  col- 
ors, having  diligently  swept  and  watered  the  square, 
w'aited  for  the  arrival  of  Gonzalo. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  entered,  attended  by  his 
train,  with  the  Duke  of  Nemours  at  his  right,  and  on  his 
left  the  Lady  Elvira.  He  rode  around  the  lists,  and 
alighted  at  a  gallery  raised  on  one  of  the  sides  higher 


ETTORE  FIEEAMOSCA.  175 

than  the  others,  and  more  richly  decorated.  Amid  the 
hurrahs  and  acclamations  which  people  always  so  lib- 
erally bestow  on  exhibitions  of  gaudy  garments  of  gold, 
and  of  any  kind  of  finery,  all  took  their  seats,  and  the 
signal  was  given  for  the  first  bull  to  be  let  loose. 

The  murmur  of  the  spectators,  and  the  quarrels  which 
generally  take  place  on  such  occasions  concerning  the 
best  places  to  which  every  one  claims  the  best  right,  were 
hushed  in  deep  silence,  as  the  barrier  was  opened. 

A  huge  bull  dashed  furiously  into  the  centre  of  the 
lists.  His  head  and  foreparts  were  entirely  black,  but 
the  back  was  dark  gray.  Right  and  left  he  lashed  with 
his  tail  furiously,  and  went  plunging  around  the  lists 
until  he  found  that  there  was  no  chance  of  escape,  and 
then  he  halted,  rolling  his  blood-shot  eyes  with  a  suspi- 
cious look,  and  fiercely  pawing  the  ground  with  his 
forefeet. 

At  this  moment  the  attention  of  every  one  was  sud- 
denly called  to  the  noise  arising  from  two  men  quarrelling 
together  in  a  part  of  the  lists,  for  some  reason  which  the 
people  could  not  learn.  But  we  will  let  our  reader  know 
it,  if  he  will  be  pleased  to  follow  us  back  for  a  few  mo- 
ments to  the  ladies  of  Sant'  Orsola. 

On  that  evening  in  which  Fieramosca  informed  them 
that  the  combat  with  the  French  had  been  arranged,  Gin- 
evra  was  not  alone  in  feeling  anxious  for  the  danger  to 
which  he  would  be  exposed.  Zorais  also  was  frightened. 
A  haughty  and  daring  temperament  is,  generally  speaking, 
not  easily  accessible;  but  woe  to  it,  if  love  ever  takes  pos- 
session of  it !  After  that  evening  she  had  no  peace,  rest, 
or  sleep.  Slie  spent  whole  days  thinking  of  only  one 
thing,  her  mind  forever  revolving  the  same  ideas  with- 
out   being   able   to    turn  her  thoughts   into    any   other 


176  ETTOEE   FIERAMOSCA. 

channel,  or  even  to  busy  herself  materially  in  any  definite 
occupation  ;  only,  now  and  then  she  would  for  a  few  mo- 
ments seat  herself  at  her  work  embroidering  the  mantle 
which  was  destined  for  Ettore,  and  then  suddenly  start- 
ing up  she  would  go  to  spend  long  hours  on  the  piazza, 
where  she  sat,  and  at  times,  without  the  least  conscious- 
ness of  what  she  was  doing,  she  would  tear  off  the  vine- 
leaves  and  other  plants  which  shaded  it ;  at  other  times 
she  would  go  out,  as  if  on  errands  of  great  importance, 
and  then  almost  entirely  lost  to  herself,  she  would  slacken 
her  steps,  and  stand  with  her  eyes  riveted  on  the  ground, 
—  always  anxious  to  be  alone,  and  above  all,  endeavor- 
ing to  avoid  being  seen  by  her  friend  who,  she  thought, 
might  at  any  moment  find  out  what  she  wished  above  all 
to  keep  concealed. 

Ginevra,  on  her  part,  was  in  no  less  agitation  ;  and  we 
venture  to  say  that  the  struggle  of  her  soul  arose  from 
motives  of  a  great  deal  more  weight  and  power.  The 
affection  which  she  felt  for  the  Italian  youth  was  the  off- 
spring of  long  intimacy,  had  been  nourished  by  it,  and 
had  been  strengthened  by  the  great  debt  of  gratitude 
she  owed  to  him ;  and  now  it  was  rendered  more  intense 
by  the  impending  danger,  by  the  thought  that  a  glorious 
death  might  cut  him  off  forever,  and  by  an  honorable 
sentiment  of  reproach  (after  all,  nothing  will  excite 
heart  and  mind  so  much  as  great  obstacles)  which  ad- 
monished her  that  it  was  her  paramount  duty  to  try 
eveiy  means  of  returning  to  her  husband,  and  of  sepa- 
rating from  him  who,  notwithstanding  their  agreeing  vir- 
tue, still  held  her  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice.  She 
remembered  that  she  had  promised  to  God  and  to  the 
Patroness  of  the  Monastery  that  she  would  inform  Ettore 
of  the  resolution  she  had  taken  of  separating  from  him  ; 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  177 

but  on  the  evening  she  had  determined  to  communicate 
that  resolution,  he  had  come  with  the  news  of  the  chal- 
lenge ;  this  was  a  good  excuse  for  putting  off  the  com- 
munication ;  but  still  she  felt  within  herself,  that  although 
a  concession  might  be  made  for  the  delay,  she  was  not  at 
all  warranted  to  consider  herself  free  from  the  obligation 
she  had  contracted. 

But  besides  these  thoughts  which  were  harrowing 
enough,  a  painful  suspicion  in  reference  to  her  friend  had 
already  crept  into  her  mind.  Women  have  an  innate 
sense,  I  might  say  an  instinct,  which  leads  them  to  dis- 
cover the  existence  of  love,  no  matter  how  deeply  con- 
cealed it  may  be  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  heart. 
Ginevra  very  soon  perceived  a  great  change  in  Zorais ; 
and  too  Avell  did  she  guess  at  the  cause  of  it.  The  two 
friends  spent  several  days  in  this  state  of  mind,  their  in- 
tercourse enlivened  no  more  by  the  former  affectionate 
and  true-hearted  intimacy. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  tournament  which  was  to  take 
place  in  Barletta,  was  the  only  topic  of  conversation  be- 
tween the  gardener  Gennaro,  the  lay-sisters,  and  the  men- 
at-arms  of  the  tower  ;  and  if  any  happened  to  go  to  town, 
they  would  bring  home  a  deal  of  news  about  the  prepa- 
rations that  were  made,  and  how  great  the  expected  fes- 
tivities would  be ;  so  much  so,  that  on  that  blessed  morn- 
ing, all,  except  only  those  who  absolutely  could  not  leave, 
went  to  Barletta  at  the  peep  of  day,  to  secure  good 
places.  The  gardener,  who,  like  all  southern  people, 
was  passionately  fond  of  public  spectacles  and  amuse- 
ments, having  donned  his  best  apparel,  and  stuck  a  hand- 
some bouquet  on  the  band  of  his  hat,  was  on  the  point  of 
entering  his  little  boat,  long  before  the  break  of  day. 
Zorais   made   her  appearance  at  the    top    of  the  steps 


178  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

which  led  to  the  seashore,  dressed  with  more  care  than 
the  hour  and  place  seemed  to  demand. 

"  Gennaro,  1  would  like  to  go  to  Barletta  with  thee." 

Gennaro  noticed  some  hesitation  in  her  manner ; 

and  as  he  was  accustomed  to  be  always  addressed  by  her 
in  a  resolute  and  abrupt  tone,  he  gazed  at  her  for  a 
moment  before  he  welcomed  her,  then  added  that  he 
would  feel  honored  by  her  company,  and  only  regretted  he 
had  not  washed  the  boat,  and  covered  it  with  some  sort 
of  carpet,  to  make  the  seat  more  soft.  "  But  I'll  be  back 
in  an  instant ;  it  will  not  take  rae  a  minute,"  he  said,  and 
started  to  go  for  what  was  needed.  Zorais  held  him 
back  by  the  arm,  and  the  grasp  was  so  fierce  that  he 
looked  at  her  full  in  the  face.  He  thought  in  his  mind : 
is  she  crazy  or  possessed  ? 

Ginevra  was  still  in  bed,  and  Zorais  did  not  wish  to 
give  an  explanation  as  to  the  motives  of  her  trip,  which 
would  surely  give  rise  to  wonder  in  her  friend's  mind, 
this  being  the  first  time  she  had  left  the  Monastery.  She 
was  impatient  of  delay,  as  every  moment  she  imagined 
to  see  Ginevra  coming. 

Hence  with  words  more  of  command  than  of  request, 
she  hurried  the  gardener  into  the  boat,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  paddle  away  towards  Barletta.  Gennaro  never 
stopped  his  gabble,  as  he  was  rowing;  he  felt  sure  he 
could  introduce  her  everywhere ;  Gonzalo's  valet  was  a 
great  friend  of  his  ;  no  one  could  secure  for  her  a  better 
place  to  enjoy  the  feast.  They  arrived  at  the  Castle 
when  Gonzalo's  train  and  the  French  barons  had  started 
to  meet  the  Lady  Elvira.  Zorais  begged  of  Gennaro 
not  to  leave  her,  but  she  could  not  prevail  on  him  to  stay 
by  her,  and  he  rushed  on  amidst  the  dust,  and  the  jost- 
ling of  the  populace,  to  follow  the  cavalcade.     Only  he 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  179 

led  her  to  the  Tavern  of  the  Sun,  promising,  most  faith- 
fully, that  he  would  be  back  in  a  very  short  time. 

But  he  was  detained  longer  than  he  thought,  and  was 
late  in  keeping  his  promise ;  so  that  when  he  entered  the 
square,  every  place  was  occupied,  and  he  despaired  at 
once  to  find  room  for  himself  and  his  friend.  But  by 
polite  requests  and  by  strong  elbowing,  he  opened  his 
way  through  the  people,  who  had  thronged  even  behind 
the  galleries,  and  succeeded  in  gaining  a  place  under  one 
of  them.  It  was  near  the  avenue  through  which  the 
combatants  entered  the  lists ;  but  he  could  see  nothing 
else  but  the  legs  of  the  spectators  dangling  over  his  head, 
and  he  felt  deeply  mortified  at  the  failure  of  his  great 
promises  in  the  capacity  of  a  guide.  Luckily,  at  the 
moment  when  the  bull  was  released,  Fanfulla  da  Lodi, 
who  was  one  of  the  marshals  of  the  day,  came  out  of  the 
lists  ;  he  caught  the  eye  of  Zorais,  who  looked  around 
with  an  air  of  vexation,  and  then  recognized  Gennaro, 
who  thus  immediately  addressed  him  :  — 

"  Eccellenza  lllustrissima  !  See  this  good  lady  ;  she 
is  dying  with  desire  to  see  the  feasts,  but  we  came 
too  late.  .  .  ." 

Zorais  perceived  in  the  excited  and  fiery  looks  of  the 
young  soldier,  that  he  felt,  indeed,  disposed  to  grant 
the  requested  assistance,  and  more  too ;  and  she  kept 
punching  at  Gennaro  with  her  elbow,  to  make  him  hold 
his  tongue ;  but  it  was  too  late.  Fanfulla  came  to  her 
assistance,  and  led  her  by  the  hand  to  an  open  space 
behind  the  galleries,  making  the  populace  give  way  with 
his  truncheon,  and  then,  raising  his  eye,  he  looked  for  a 
seat  where  he  could  place  her. 

It  was  in  an  evil  hour  that  Martin  Schwarzenbach,  the 
Conestabile  of  Sant'  Orsola,  betook  himself  to  one  of  the 


180  ETTOKE  FIERAMOSCA. 

top  seats  of  a  gallery,  and  sat  there  enjoying  in  perfect 
ease  a  full  view  of  the  lists,  his  knees  Avide  apart,  and 
his  arms  crossed  on  his  breast.  Fanfulla  would  not 
have  missed  for  a  thousand  florins  the  good  chance  he 
saw  before  him  to  have  a  little  fun,  and  on  such  terms 
too.  With  his  wand,  he  could  only  reach  the  heel  of  the 
German,  who  was  at  the  height  of  eight  or  ten  feet  from 
the  ground  ;  he  tapped  him  lightly,  and  that  wight  bent 
his  looks  down  to  see  what  was  wanted.  Fanfulla,  with 
the  coolest  air,  brought  his  right  hand  to  the  height  of  his 
forehead,  waved  the  fingers  up  and  down,  and,  with  a 
slight  motion  of  the  head  sideways,  a  wink  from  the  eye, 
and  a  twist  from  the  mouth,  he  made  him  understand  that 
he  wanted  his  seat  for  the  woman  he  had  with  him. 
In  truth,  the  expression  of  his  face  would  have  irritated 
even  a  dead  man.  Martin,  trusting  for  defence  in  the 
height  of  his  position,  and  the  thought  of  that  split  barrel 
recurring,  perhaps,  to  his  memory,  gave  a  shi'ug  of  the 
shoulders,  as  much  as  to  say,  —  Go  about  your  busi- 
ness, —  and  then  resumed  his  former  attitude. 

"  Tedesco  !  Tedesco !  "  then  said  Fanfulla,  with  a  loud 
voice,  and  a  toss  of  his  head,  "  thou  art  purchasing  a 
good  dose  of  the  stick  ;  however,  make  up  thy  mind  that 
thou  hast  seen  enough  of  the  feasts  for  this  day." 

But  Martin  did  not  move ;  he  only  grumbled  ;  because, 
after  all,  he  had  misgivings  as  to  the  intentions  of  his 
assailant,  although  at  such  a  distance. 

Not  sooner  said  than  done ;  Fanfulla  jumped  on  a 
board  which  lay  across,  caught  the  Conestabile  by  the 
legs,  —  the  movement  was  so  sudden,  that  Martin  had  no 
time  to  recover  himself,  —  unseated  him,  and  dragged 
him  down,  thinking  he  could  lay  him  flat  on  the  ground ; 
but  the  unfortunate  Martin  had  got  jammed  between  two 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  181 

rough  planks,  through  which  his  belly  could  not  slip,  and 
he  cried  lustily  for  "  Help  ! "  and  "  Mercy  !  "  The  other 
man  kept  on  pulling,  and  shaking,  and  jerking,  and  was 
not  satisfied  until  he  had  drawn  the  poor  fellow  down, 
covered  with  bruises  and  scratches.  This  done,  he  said, 
with  an  air  of  compassionate  feeling  :  "  I  am  sorry  to  the 
heart ;  but  didn't  I  tell  thee  that  thou  hadst  already  seen 
enough  of  the  joust  ?  "  Then,  with  great  politeness,  and 
dignified  self-possession,  he  helped  Gennaro  and  Zorais 
to  ascend  the  steps,  and  mingled  with  the  crowd,  laughing 
heartily  at  the  thousand  and  one  curses  hurled  after  him 
by  the  Captain,  who,  trying  to  compose  himself,  and  feel- 
ing whether  he  had  any  bones  broken,  picked  up  his  hat, 
sword,  and  gloves,  apparently  very  sorely  exercised  by 
his  defeat. 

Zorais,  who,  from  the  place  secured  to  her  by  Fan- 
fulla's  exertions,  had  obtained  a  full  view  of  the  lists, 
gave  a  searching  look  all  around,  and  rested  them  on  the 
balcony  in  front  of  her,  where  she  saw  Ettore,  who,  seated 
by  the  Lady  Elvira  among  the  noblest  barons,  enter- 
tained her,  and  endeavored  to  prove  by  his  courtesy  and 
gallantry  that  he  was  worthy  of  having  been  chosen  her 
knight  in  attendance  for  the  day.  The  Spanish  maiden, 
warm-hearted,  of  a  fervid  soul,  and  with  a  disposition  to 
levity,  pretended,  perhaps,  to  ascribe  his  attentions  to  a 
cause  which  flattered  her  conceit  equally  with  her  heart. 
They  were  observed  by  two  females,  who,  at  different 
distances  and  with  different  feelings,  did  not  let  a  sin- 
gle motion  of  theirs  escape.  Zorais  was  one ;  she  was 
too  far  to  hear  their  conversation,  but  she  felt  so  much 
interested,  and  watched  them  with  a  feeling  of  so  much 
anxiety,  and  followed  every  change  so  closely,  as  to  be 
satisfied  that  the  daushter  of  Gonzalo  knew  well  how 


182  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

to  appreciate  the  gallant  Italian,  and  that  it  was  some 
other  feeling  besides  the  kindly  courtesy  which  animated 
her  manners  towards  him ;  she  did  not  feel  warranted  in 
forming  an  opinion  of  Ettore's  sentiments,  but  even  a 
shadow  can  make  a  heart  in  such  a  plight  as  hers 
tremble.  —  The  other  observer  was  Vittoria  Colonna  ; 
she  knew,  from  experience,  that  the  youthful  Elvira  did 
not  know  how  to  guard  herself  against  the  influence 
of  a  handsome  face  and  of  fascinating  manners.  She 
had  an  affection  true  and  deep-rooted  for  her  friend ; 
and  the  stern  brow  and  the  piercing  looks  of  the 
daughter  of  Fal)rizio  evidently  betrayed  that  she  felt  ill 
at  ease,  and  that  she  highly  disapproved  a  conversation 
which  was  becoming  intimate  and  might  be  fraught  with 
serious  consequences. 

The  first  bull  let  loose  in  the  lists  had,  at  first,  been 
abandoned  to  the  mercy  of  any  one  who  might  feel  dis- 
posed to  attack  him  ;  several  had  proved  their  skill  with 
various  success  but  without  any  decisive  advantage. 
Diego  Garcia  occupied  a  lateral  balcony,  from  which 
many  Spaniards  and  Italians,  together  with  the  French 
barons,  were  witnessing  the  game  ;  at  last  he  yielded  to 
the  requests  of  many  of  those  foreigners  who  wished  him 
to  show  his  dexterity  in  this  kind  of  warfare.  Nowa- 
days, the  skill  of  a  matador  is  exhibited  in  Spain  by 
plunging  the  sword  betwixt  the  vertebrae  of  the  neck  at 
the  moment  the  animal  lowers  its  head  to  gore  its  assail- 
ant; but,  in  those  times,  when  the  ponderous  weapons 
increased  the  power  of  a  warrioi^'s  arm,  to  sever  with  one 
blow  the  head  of  the  bull  from  the  trunk,  was  deemed  the 
perfection  of  the  art ;  and  it  was  often  done  by  those  who 
had  both  strength  and  skill. 

Paredes  entered  the  arena,  carrying  a  huge,  long  sword 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  183 

—  spadone  —  on  his  left  shoulder,  dressed  in  a  tight  corset 
of  buffalo  skin,  with  uncovered  head.  He  saw  that  the 
bull  had  been  wounded,  and  vas  losing  blood  ;  hence  he 
beckoned  to  the  pursuivants,  and  called  for  a  fresh  one. 
The  fatigued  bull  having  been  lassoed,  and  pulled  away, 
they  opened  one  of  the  small  stables,  and  another  of 
larger  frame  and  of  more  ferocious  appearance  burst 
forth.  Emerging  from  darkness  into  the  open,  dazzling 
light  of  the  sun,  exasperated  and  furious,  the  bull  dashed 
forward,  tearing  up  the  ground  around  the  lists,  as  such 
animals  are  wont,  until  perceiving  his  antagonist,  he 
halted  before  him,  lowered  his  head,  roaring,  and  with 
the  length  of  his  tongue  hanging  out  of  his  mouth,  he 
looked  as  if  he  was  taking  a  position  ;  he  backed,  and 
with  its  forefeet  pawed  the  sand  into  a  cloud  that  envel- 
oped his  neck  and  back.  Garcia's  strength  was  great ; 
but  it  would  have  been  dangerous  to  try  it  with  a  bull 
whose  forehead  was  armed  with  horns  of  unusual  length, 
and  with  a  neck  so  wide  and  so  bulky  as  to  fear  no  attack ; 
the  Spaniard  saw  the  need  of  extreme  caution.  With 
both  hands  lifting  his  spadone  over  the  left,  and  with  the 
left  foot  stamping  the  ground  twice  or  three  times,  he 
shouts  at  the  beast :  "  ah  !  ah  ! "  The  bull,  lowering  his 
horns,  rushes  upon  his  enemy ;  the  latter,  just  as  he  is 
accosted,  falls  back  on  one  side  and  bestows  upon  the 
bull's  neck  a  blow  from  his  spadone  with  so  much  nerve, 
and  so  well  aimed,  that  the  head  rolls  on  the  ground, 
and  the  body  dal'ts  three  or  four  steps  forwards  before 
it  fell. 

A  universal  burst  of  acclamations  applauded  Don 
Garcia,  as  he  immediately  regained  his  seat  among  the 
spectators.  The  French  knights,  unacquainted  with  this 
manner  of  combat,  and  witnessing  the  ease  with  which 


184  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

the  Spaniard  had  despatched  the  bull,  did  not  deem  it  a 
feat  of  much  difficulty.  And  as  they  were  all  men  in 
the  prime  of  youth  and  of  great  strength,  and  very  skil- 
ful in  the  use  of  arms,  remarked  that  they  would  also 
do  the  same.  And  La  Motte  was  even  more  confident 
than  the  rest  in  expressing  his  opinion  that  it  was  not  so 
veiy  difficult  to  perform  the  deed.  Made  prisoner  by 
Garcia,  as  the  reader  well  remembers,  he  had  ransomed 
himself;  of  a  disdainful  soul,  he  heartily  hated  the  Span- 
iard ;  not  that  he  had  been  discourteously  treated,  but  he 
could  not  bear  to  have  always  before  his  eyes  him  to 
whom  he  had  been  forced  to  humble  himself 

He  applauded  Garcia,  it  is  true,  to  avoid  the  charge  of 
being  envious  and  uncourteous ;  but  with  a  look  which 
modern  Frenchmen  call  suffisant,  for  which  the  Ital- 
ians have  not  perhaps  a  corresponding  word,  but  in 
English  might  be  rendered  self-sufficient.  With  a 
haughty  mien,  bolt  upright,  not  deigning  to  turn  towards 
him  in  full  person,  which  was  a  habit  peculiar  to  himself, 
he  remarked  :  "  Bravo,  Don  Diego  ;  good  cut,  par  Notre 
Dame  ;  "  then  addressing  a  Frenchman  at  his  side,  added 
with  a  smile  ;  '•'■grand  meschef  a  ete  que  le  faureaic  Ji'eut 
pas  sa  cotte  de  mailles  ;  la  rescousse  eut  ete  pour  lui"  * 

Paredes  understood  him,  felt  enraged,  and  said  to  him- 
self;  Vote  a  Dios  que  he  da  saber  st  ese  perro  frances 
tiene  los  denies  largos  como  la  lengua.f  He  accosted  the 
Frenchman  and  said  to  him  : 

"  How  many  bright  gold  ducats  will  you  please  to  pay 
if  I  cut  the  neck  of  a  bull  protected  with  a  coat  of  mail 

*  Great  pitj-  the  bull  had  not  on  his  coat-of  mail:  he  would  have 
gained  the  victoiy. 

t  I  vow  to  God,  that  I  wish  to  know  whether  this  French  cur  has 
teeth  as  long  as  his  tongue. 


ETTORE  FIEKAMOSCA.  185 

when  you  could  not  cut  it  naked  ?  But  even  without  any 
consideration  of  ducats,  lest  people  think  that  Diego  Gar- 
cia works  for  money  like  a  torero^  let  honor  alone  be 
pledged,  and  let  us  see  whether  you  can  strike  a  blow 
like  mine  as  well  as  you  can  laugh  at  it." 

The  challenge  did  not  please  La  Motte  much,  and  he 
bit  the  tongue  that  provoked  it ;  not  that  he  was  a  cow- 
ard ;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  a  daring  man  and  true  ;  but 
as  this  was  the  first  time  that  he  happened  on  such  ad- 
venture, he  did  not  well  know  how  to  meet  the  encounter. 
But  he  could  not  retreat ;  with  such  spectators  as  were 
around  him  he  felt  obliged  to  leap  the  ditch.  Accord- 
ingly he  boldly  replied : 

"  In  truth,  it  would  not  be  indecorous  for  a  French 
knight  to  refuse  a  combat  with  a  bull,  but  it  shall  never 
be  said  that  Guy  de  la  Motte  ever  shrank  from  using  his 
sword,  let  the  occasion  be  whatever  it  might.  To  the 
trial."  —  And  he  rose,  muttering  between  his  teeth  — 
'■^Gliien  d'Espagnol,  si  je  pouvais  te  tenir  sur  dix  pieds  de 
hon  terrain,  au  lieu  de  la  bete  /  "  *  .  .  .  He  had  closely 
watched  and  well  learned  Garcia's  tactics  in  striking  the 
successful  blow  ;  a  young  chevalier,  a  man  of  arms,  and 
a  Frenchman,  could  he  feel  mistrust  ? 

This  challenge  so  novel  had  roused  the  surrounding 
young  soldiers  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement.*  The 
commotion  and  the  murmur  had  been  noticed  in  Gonza- 
lo's  gallery ;  the  cause  was  soon  told ;  it  spread  through 
the  galleries  like  wildfire,  and  was  received  by  the  spec- 
tators with  joy.  However,  the  news  passed  from  mouth 
to  mouth  with  strange  transformations,  the  more  strange 
as    they  originated  from  individuals  of  the  lower  classes. 

*  Dog  of  a  Spaniard,  would  to  God  I  could  hold  thee  on  ten  feet  of 
fair  ground,  rather  than  the  beast! 


186  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

But  nowhere  was  the  report  so  misrepresented  as  where 
Zorais  was,  at  the  very  farthest  point  from  Gonzalo's 
balcony.  The  most  distant  among  the  spectatoi"s  al- 
always  pretending  to  know  more  than  those  who  were 
the  nearest,  there  was  a  waving  of  the  heads,  and 
upturning  of  faces  which  evidently  marked  the  prog- 
ress of  the  news  as  it  ran  through  the  steps  and  seats  of 
the  spectators.  Gennaro  had  been  up  on  his  feet  some 
time,  stretching  his  neck,  and  impatiently  trying  to  catch 
some  information  as  to  the  cause  of  the  tumult.  He, 
Zorais  and  their  neighbors  had  seen  the  commotion  in 
the  balcony  where  the  knights  and  their  leaders  sat,  then 
they  saw  the  former  leaving  their  places  and  scatter  over 
the  lists ;  the  feast  seemed  interrupted ;  no  other  bull 
was  let  loose  ;  and  they  inquired  of  each  other,  —  what 
is  the  matter  ?  what  now  ?  —  but  all  inquired,  and  no  one 
replied.  At  last  one  near  by  said,  — "  The  challenge 
between  the  Italians  and  the  French  is  to  come  off  now, 
here  in  the  lists."  —  "  0 !  bah !  "  —  said  another,  "  don't 
you  see  Fieramosca  up  there,  nailed  to  the  balcony  ? 
Truly,  by  the  way  he  is  talking  to  that  young  lady  he 
does  not  seem  to  be  in  any  humor  for  a  fight  just  now.'*  — 
Zorais  overheard  it  and  sighed.  Another  from  the 
other  side  chimed  in  ;  —  "  They  say  that  the  French  cap- 
tain has  challenged  Gonzalo,  and  whoever  kills  the  bull, 
which  is  a  handito  from  Quarato,  will  have  gained  the 
day,  and  will  be  the  lord  of  the  kmgdom."  But  then 
several  pursuivants  were  in  a  bustle  around  one  of  the 
small  stables,  and  seemed  to  be  about  rousing  another 
bull.  Diego  Garcia  was  standing  on  one  side  with  his 
spadone  on  his  shoulder  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of  men, 
all  apparently  addressing  him  at  once,  all  in  a  flurry,  as 
if  they  wished  to  impress  something  upon  his  mind  ;  but 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  187 

on  his  brow,  bold  and  lofty,  towering  over  the  rest,  was 
seen,  even  from  afar,  the  immovable  determination  that  he 
would  accomplish  what  he  had  promised,  however  full  of 
danger  the  attempt  might  be.  Not  far  from  him  was  a 
group  of  Frenchmen  drawn  closely  around  La  Motte,  en- 
couraging him  to  pi'event  the  shame  of  defeat. 

A  spectator,  occupying  one  of  the  lowest  seats,  and 
who  had  just  concluded  a  conversation  with  Veleno  who 
stood  by  him,  remarked,  turning  his  eyes  up  to  Gennai'O : 
"  This  good  man  here  says  that  yon  gentlemen  have  laid 
a  wager  that  they  will  sAvallow  a  pint  of  Greek  wine  at 
one  draught  in  the  very  teeth  of  the  bull."  Many  laughed 
at  the  pleasantry  ;  but  the  titter  soon  ceased  when  they 
saw  Fanfulla,  with  men-at-arms  under  his  command, 
clearing  the  lists,  in  the  centre  of  which  the  Spanish 
giant  stood  alone  with  that  great  spadone  of  his  on  his 
shoulder. 

Paredes  felt  how  difficult  it  would  be  for  him  to  come 
out  of  this  contest  with  honor  ;  notwithstanding  his  Her- 
culean strength,  it  was  an  undertaking  of  great  boldness 
to  cut  the  neck  of  a  bull  covered  with  an  iron  coat-of- 
mail ;  hence  he  had  provided  himself  with  another  spa- 
done  of  more  weight  than  the  former  one,  and  which  he 
used  only  when  he  had  to  assault  or  defend  entrench- 
ments ;  he  had  run  home  for  it,  had  it  sharpened  to  a 
roundish  edge,  and  having  hastily  taken  some  food  as 
it  came  to  hand,  he  had  washed  it  down  with  half  a 
gallon  of  good  Spanish  wine.  lie  had  had  plenty  of  time 
to  do  all  this,  as  it  was  not  an  easy  task  nor  free  from 
danger,  to  fasten  around  a  bull's  neck  a  coat-of-mail. 
This  armor  had  been  left  open  in  front,  the  horns  drawn 
through  the  arm-holes,  and  remained  fostened  under  the 
neck,  the  collar  dano-linn;  down  in  front.     But  whoever 


188  ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA. 

has  seen  bull  fights  in  our  own  times,  knows  that  it  is 
possible,  with  the  help  of  hempen  cords  fastened  to  the 
animal's  horns,  to  hold  it  at  bay  in  dark  places,  and  force 
it  to  submit  to  any  treatment. 

Amidst  the  flourishing  of  trumpets,  and  every  kind 
of  instruments,  a  king-at-arms  came  forward.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  kind  of  scapular,  red  and  yellow,  with  the 
Spanish  arms  on  his  breast  and  on  his  back.  With  a 
motion  of  his  truncheon  he  commanded  silence,  and  with 
a  loud  voice  proclaimed  as  follows  : 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Catholic  King,  Ferdinand,  King 
of  Castile,  Leon,  of  the  Kingdom  of  Granada,  "West  In- 
dies, etc.  etc.  etc.,  Don  Gonzalo  Hernandez  de  Cordova, 
Marquis  of  Almenares,  Commander,  Chevalier  of  the 
order  of  San  Jago,  Captain,  Governor  for  His  Catholic 
Majesty  of  the  Kingdom  this  side  of  the  Faro,  defends  all 
here  present,  under  penalty  of  two  strappados,  or  more  to 
his  pleasure,  from  interfering  by  words,  acclamations, 
signs,  or  any  action  whatever,  with  the  combat  which  will 
take  place  immediately  between  the  bull  and  the  lUiis- 
trissimo  Magnijico  Cavaliere  Don  Diego  Manrique  de 
Lara  Conte  de  Paredes" 

A  response  was  flourished  from  all  the  trumpets.  The 
spectators  of  all  classes  either  through  courtesy,  knowing 
that  by  the  slightest  movement  on  the  part  of  the  bull, 
the  life  of  the  intrepid  Spaniard  might  be  jeoparded,  or 
through  fear  of  the  straps,  were  hushed  into  so  deep 
silence,  that  when  the  little  bull-house  was  opened,  the 
drawing  of  its  bolt  was  distinctly  heard  from  one  end  to 
the  other  of  the  amphitheatre.  A  bull  came  out,  but  not 
with  the  mad  fury  of  those  before  ;  nor  was  he  so  large 
as  the  rest,  but  he  was  thick,  and  all  black ;  moreover,  ho 
was  a  great  deal  more  savage  ;  he  also  halted  at  ten  steps 


ETTORE  FIEEAMOSCA.  189 

from  Don  Garcia,  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  him,  lashed 
himself  with  his  tail,  and  pawed  the  sand.  His  antagonist 
kept  motionless,  the  sword  lifted  in  the  air,  his  wide 
open  eyes  gazing  attentively,  well  knowing  that  a  false 
aim  might  cost  him  his  life.  The  beast  moved  at  last,  the 
first  steps  slowly;  then  at  once  he  gave  a  roar  and  a 
plunge,  and  rushed  with  lowered  head  upon  Garcia.  The 
Spaniard,  thinking  he  would  be  able  to  cut  the  bull's  head 
as  he  had  done  in  the  former  struggle,  darted  on  one  side, 
and  let  the  blow  fall  with  all  the  power  of  his  arm ;  but 
either  because  the  sword  did  not  fall  straight  or  because 
the  bull  had  made  a  contre-temps,  the  weapon  rebounded 
on  the  coat,  and  the  bull  turned  upon  him  with  so  much 
fury  that,  to  keep  him  at  a  distance,  the  Spaniard  had 
scarcely  time  to  address  his  aim  at  the  front  w^here  it  was 
protected  by  the  iron  collar,  and  there  he  held  the  point 
of  the  spadone.  Then,  indeed,  the  whole  strength  of 
Paredes  Avas  put  to  the  test.  There  he  stood  with  his 
feet  wide  apart,  one  before  the  other,  the  spadone  held 
with  both  hands,  the  hilt  resting  against  his  breast,  and 
the  point  holding  on  to  the  bull's  fx'ont,  and  thereby  suc- 
ceeded in  keeping  him  at  bay  ;  the  thick  and  strong  blade 
stood  the  trial ;  and  the  strain  on  Paredes's  part  was  so 
intense  that  the  sinews  and  the  muscles  of  his  thighs 
and  legs  quivered  and  swelled  as  well  as  the  veins  of  the 
neck  and  forehead ;  the  hue  of  his  face  turned  red  at  first, 
then  into  a  purple  tint ;  and  he  bit  his  under  lip  so  fierce- 
ly as  to  draw  blood  from  it. 

The  bull,  seeing  that  the  avenue  to  an  attack  was  pre- 
cluded on  that  side,  drew  back ;  and,  taking  field  again, 
rushed  upon  Garcia  with  renewed  fury.  Garcia  felt  a 
fever  seizing  upon  him  from  the  shame  of  having  missed 
his   blow ;  in   the  twinkling   of  his    eye    he    looked  up 


190  ettoue  fikramosca. 

to  the  galleries  and  saw  La  Motto's  countenance  shad- 
owed with  a  sneering  look  ;  the  sight  maddened  him,  and 
feeling  a  new  impulse  added  to  his  strength,  lifted  the 
sword  as  high  as  his  arm  could  reach  and  let  it  fall  on 
the  bull's  neck  with  such  crashing  force  that  he  would 
have  cut  it  had  it  been  of  bronze.  At  first  he  cut  one  of 
the  horns  like  a  bulrush,  then  the  coat-of-mail  and  the 
vertebrae,  stopping  only  at  the  hide  of  the  dew-lap,  by 
which  the  head  still  hung,  while  the  body  went  rolling 
on  the  ground  amid  a  cloud  of  dust. 

Such  an  exciting  exhibition  of  skill  and  strength 
elicited  a  burst  of  acclamation  so  tremendous  and  so 
unanimous,  that  it  sounded  like  a  clap  of  thunder. 
Paredes  let  the  spadone  fall  at  his  feet,  stood  panting 
for  a  few  moments,  while  the  purple  of  his  cheeks 
turned  into  a  pale  color,  which  however  did  not  last  long, 
lie  was  immediately  surrounded  by  his  fi-iends,  feasting 
and  greeting  him.  Some  admired  him,  some  handled  the 
spadone,  others  examined  the  width  of  the  wound,  and 
the  neatness  of  the  blow,  and  meantime  the  bands  made 
the  valley  reecho  with  their  enthusiastic  strains. 

The  Spaniard  had  come  out  of  his  engagement  with 
honor.  Now  it  was  the  turn  for  La  Motte.  The  skilful 
blow  of  his  antagonist  led  him  to  pause ;  he  could 
never  hope  to  equal  him ;  and  should  he  even  succeed 
(although  it  Avas  a  dubious  matter)  in  cutting  in  twain 
the  neck  of  a  bull  unprotected  by  any  armor,  the  praises 
bestowed  upon  him  would  be  of  an  inferior  order  ; 
moreover  his  inexperience  in  this  manner  of  warfare 
made  him  have  misgivings  as  to  his  chances  of  success. 
At  all  events  he  felt  that  he  could  not  come  out  of  the 
affair  with  honor,  and  he  became  almost  crazy  from  sheer 
spite. 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  191 

When  the  Spaniard  presented  himself  to  invite  him  to 
enter  the  lists,  he  refused  in  an  insulting  manner,  and 
added,  that  French  chevaliers,  on  horse  and  with  lance, 
held  the  first  rank  in  the  world,  and  as  noble  chevaliei's 
they  would  fight  and  conquer  their  equals  in  just  war- 
fare, but  they  left  to  hinds  and  butchers  the  art  of  killing 
bulls  ;  —  let  the  matador  be  gone,  and  bother  him  no  more. 
To  those  beastly  remarks,  Diego  Garcia  made  a  reply  of 
equal  and  worse  import ;  both  laid  their  hands  upon  their 
hilts,  and  the  quarrel,  taking  place  in  the  balcony  occu- 
pied by  the  knights,  attracted  the  attention  of  Gonzalo, 
of  the  Duke  of  Nemours,  and  of  all  the  spectators.  To 
make  it  short,  a  new  challenge  was  then  given ;  and 
Garcia  in  a  sonorous  and  terrible  voice  called  out  the 
French,  and  challenged  them  to  encounter  him,  saying 
he  would  prove  to  them  that  even  in  this  warfare  the 
Spaniards  not  only  were  their  equals,  but  by  far  their 
superiors. 

The  Captains  of  France  and  Spain  were  delighted 
when  they  saw  that  a  martial  spirit  was  not  only  kept  up 
but  even  fanned  into  fury  in  the  two  armies,  through 
these  quarrels  and  challenges,  which  seemed  to  reproduce 
among  their  followers  the  romantic  deeds  sung  by  bards 
and  troubadours.  Therefore  they  granted  that  even  this 
challenge  should  be  accepted ;  and  in  a  few  moments  the 
number  and  the  names  of  the  combatants  were  agreed 
upon,  and  it  was  determined  that  they  would  meet  within 
two  days,  ten  on  each  side,  on  the  beach  along  the  road 
to  Bai-i.  But  it  was  enjoined  as  a  preliminary  condition 
that  no  more  was  to  be  said  that  day  about  the  challenge, 
so  that  the  festivities  should  not  be  interrupted.  The 
champions  on  both  sides  were  satisfied,  and  all  returned 
peacefully  to  their  places. 


192  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

Whilst  these  arrangements  were  carried  on,  the  men- 
at-arms,  who  had  charge  of  the  lists,  carried  away  the 
body  of  the  last  bull,  and  spread  the  place  with  sand  and 
saw-dust,  covering  every  spot  of  blood.  FanfuUa,  under 
whose  direction  the  pursuivants  were  at  work,  had  re- 
ceived orders  from  Gonzalo  to  arrange  everything  for  the 
jousts.  In  a  few  moments,  they  erected  a  wall,  or  rather 
a  partition,  made  of  planks,  supported  by  posts  fixed  in 
holes  prepared  for  the  purpose  beforehand.  It  was  ex- 
tended through  the  whole  length  of  the  amphitheatre, 
like  the  axis  traversing  through  the  focus  of  an  ellipse  ; 
its  height  was  about  to  the  breast  of  a  man  of  average 
size.  The  extremities  did  not  reach  the  palisade,  and 
at  these  points  an  opening  for  three  horses  abreast  was 
left  under  the  galleries.  The  rules  of  this  kind  of  joust 
were,  that  when  the  knights  intended  to  run  with  blunted 
lances,  two  at  a  time  placed  themselves  at  the  opposite 
extremities,  on  each  side  of  the  partition,  and  both  had 
it  on  their  right ;  then  the^  combatants  spurred  their 
horses,  and  ran  close  to  the  wall,  and  aimed  a  blow  at 
each  other  as  they  met.  It  was  a  dangerous  passage-at- 
arms,  as  the  horse  could  not  mistake  it,  and  the  rider 
knew  also  beforehand  where  they  would  encounter.  At 
the  two  ends  of  the  lists  were  placed  two  barrels,  with  one 
head  stove  in,  filled  with  sand,  in  which  lances  of  all  sizes 
were  standing,  that  the  knights  nSight  make  their  choice 
and  replace  their  own  as  they  passed  by,  in  case  theirs 
were  broken  in  the  encounter,  without  advantage  on 
either  side.  Then  they  vaulted  around  the  extremities, 
and  ran  to  meet  each  other  again  over  the  course  before 
occupied  by  the  adversary. 

"When  everything  was  ready,  FanfuUa  advanced  to  the 
foot  of  the  balcony  in  which  the  Lady  Elvira  was  seated. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  193 

and  informed  her  that  it  became  her  duty  to  give  the 
signal.  The  daughter  of  Gonzalo  threw  into  the  lists  a 
handkerchief;  at  the  same  time,  the  trumpet  sounded  the 
onset,  and  three  Spaniards  entered  the  lists ;  they  were 
mounted,  sheathed  in  highly  polished  armor,  glistening 
in  the  sun  ;  and  the  waving  plumage  of  their  helmets, 
the  rich  embroidery  and  the  profusion  of  ornaments,  pre- 
sented a  sight  seldom  witnessed.  They  undertook  to  de- 
fend the  field,  challenging  any  opponents  to  combat  with 
lance  and  mace,  —  to  break  three  of  the  formei',  and  give 
two  blows  with  the  latter. 

The  champions  were  Don  Louis  de  Correa  y  Xarcio, 
Don  Inigo  Lopez  de  Ayala,  and  Don  Ramon  Blasco  de 
Azevedo. 

A  herald  then  advanced  and  called  the  names  of  the 
three  challengers,  and  proclaimed,  according  to  the  laws 
of  tourneys,  that  none  should  dare  by  word  or  action  to 
interfere  with  the  combatants.  The  shields  of  each 
knight  were  suspended  under  the  balcony  of  Gonzalo, 
and  their  names  were  written  in  golden  letters.  The 
challengers  rode  around  the  enclosure,  and  retreated  to 
one  extremity  of  the  lists  under  a  huge  standard,  in 
which  were  painted  the  turrets  and  Uons  of  Castile,  and 
the  bars  of  Aragona;  it  was  heM  by  a  squire  richly 
dressed,  and  it  streamed  over  his"  head. 

The  prize  to  be  awarded  to  the  victor  of  this  tourney, 
was  a  helmet  of  exquisite  workmanship  ;  it  was  surmount- 
ed by  a  statuette  of  Victory  instead  of  a  crest.  The 
goddess  held  in  one  hand  a  golden  branch,  in  the  other 
the  helmet's  plume ;  it  was  from  the  chisel  of  Raflaello 
del  Moro,  a  celebi'ated  Florentine  artist.  It  was  placed 
upon  the  point  of  a  lance  near  the  barrier  where  the 
three  Spanish  barons  had  entered. 


194  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

Bayard,  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  profession  of  arms, 
entered  the  lists  first,  mounted  on  a  handsome  bay  of 
Normandy,  white  spotted  on  three  feet,  and  with  black 
mane  ;  the  handsome  points  of  the  steed  were  hidden,  as 
usual,  by  the  long  trappings  which  covered  him  from  the 
ears  to  the  tail ;  the  housing  was  of  light  green  crossed 
by  vei-milion  bars,  with  the  knight's  coat-of-arms  em- 
broidered on  the  shoulders  and  haunches,  and  it  was 
hemmed  with  fringes  which  reached  to  the  horse's  knees. 
Bunches  of  plumes  waving  over  the  head  and  crupper, 
and  the  pennon  fluttering  from  the  extremity  of  his 
lance,  as  well  as  the  feather  surmounting  the  helmet, 
were  of  the  same  colors.  There  was  nothing  extra- 
ordinary in  the  form  of  the  rider,  whb,  in  fact,  from 
the  appearance  he  made  under  his  armor,  did  not  even 
exhibit  the  average  strength  of  the  men-at-arms  of  those 
times.  He  advanced,  managing  the  steed,  who,  lightly 
touched  with  the  spur  and  restrained  by  the  bit,  capered 
and  caracoled,  swung  his  head  right  and  left,  arching 
his  neck,  and,  with  a  long  flowing  tail,  lashed  and  raised 
the  sand. 

He  paused  before  the  balcony  in  which  the  Lady 
Elvira  was  seated,  and  after  having  paid  his  compliments 
to  her  by  lowering  the  point  of  his  lance,  struck  with  its 
foot  the  shield  of  Inigo  until  it  rang  three  times.  Then 
holding  the  lance  in  his  left,  already  encumbered  by  bridle 
and  buckler,  he  took  the  battle-axe  which  hung  from  the 
pommel  of  his  saddle,  and  twice  he  struck  with  it  CoiTea's 
shield  ;  he  thus  meant  to  defy  the  former  to  break  three 
lances,  and  the  latter  to  prove  his  strength  at  the  battle- 
axe  twice.  After  this,  he  retreated  to  the  entrance  of 
the  lists. 

Without  a  moment's  delay  Inigo  was  at  his  place  op- 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  195 

posite  to  his  antagonist,  and  both  had  their  lances  in  rest 
with  the  points  glancing  in  the  air.  Bayard  had  kept 
his  visor  open  all  this  time,  and  it  had  been  remarked 
that  his  face  was  of  an  ashy  paleness  ;  so  that  the  specta- 
tors were  greatly  astonished  that  he  should  dare,  or  that 
he  should  even  have  strength  to  do  battle  that  day.  Now 
he  ordered  his  squire  to  clasp  the  visor,  remarking,  that 
in  spite  of  the  quartana  *  —  he  had  been  four  months  af- 
flicted with  it  —  he  felt  confident  that  he  would  not  dis- 
grace the  French  arms  that  day. 

The  trumpets  sounded  a  third  time,  and  the  two  war- 
riors and  their  horses  vanished  from  their  posts  as  if 
impelled  by  one  motion.  To  bend  on  their  lances,  to 
spur  their  horses,  to  dash  into  full  career  with  the  rapid- 
ity of  a  winged  flight,  were  simultaneous  movements, 
and  both  knights  charged  each  other  with  equal  fury. 
Inigo  aimed  at  the  helmet  of  his  antagonist,  —  a  mark 
difficult  to  hit,  but  of  sure  effect;  but  almost  in  the 
moment  of  the  encounter,  thinking  that  before  such 
spectators  it  would  be  more  prudent  to  take  an  aim  that 
would  not  miss,  he  only  directed  the  point  of  his  lance  at 
the  shield  of  Bayard.  The  French  champion  who  was, 
perhaps,  the  most  skilful  of  all  men-at-arms  of  that 
age,  aimed  a  blow  at  Inigo's  visor,  and  so  true  did  he  hit 
him,  that  he  could  have  done  no  better  had  both  been 
standing.  The  helmet  sparkled  at  the  shock,  the  spear 
went  into  shivers,  and  the  Spaniard  reeled  on  his  left 
side,  where  he  had  also  lost  the  stirrup,  and  it  was  feared 
he  would  fall. 

The  two  champions  ran  on  their  career  to  meet  on  the 
opposite  side,  and  Inigo,  throwing  away  with .  rage  the 
staff"  of  his  spear,  snatched  another  lance  as  he  passed. 
*  Intermittent  fever. 


196  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

In  the  second  encounter  there  was  no  advantage  on 
either  side  ;  and  Inigo  questioned  in  his  own  heart 
whether  the  French  champion  had  not  refrained  through 
courtesy  from  fully  exhibiting  his  dexterity.  But  on  the 
third  run  the  doubt  became  certainty.  Inigo  broke  his 
lance  on  the  visor  of  his  adversary,  but  the  latter  only 
grazed  with  his  weapon  the  cheek  of  the  Spaniard,  and 
it  was  evident  that  the  mistake  had  not  been  involuntary. 
The  trumpets  sounded,  the  acclamations  were  loud,  and 
the  judges  awarded  equal  honors  to  the  combatants,  who 
rode  up  together  to  the  balcony  of  the  Lady  Elvira  to  do 
homage  to  her.  While  she  received  them  with  words  of 
praise,  Gonzalo  also  bestowed  on  them  his  encomium,  and 
the  Duke  of  Nemours  said  to  the  champions :  Chevaliers, 
c'est  hel  el  bon. 

Inigo  might  yield  in  every  thing  but  in  generosity ; 
and  he  proclaimed  the  courtesy  exhibited  by  Bayard 
towards  him ;  while  Bayard,  with  that  modesty  which  is 
always  the  companion  of  virtue,  denied  the  charge  and 
protested  that  he  had  done  his  best.  Gonzalo  brought 
this  contention  of  courtesy  to  an  end  by  remarking, — 

"From  your  words  one  may  doubt  as  to  who  has 
better  broken  his  lance ;  one  thing  is  certain,  however, 
there  are  not  in  the  world  more  noble,  more  generous 
chevaliers  than  you." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

At  the  signal  from  the  trumpets,  Correa,  armed  with 
an  axe  and  a  small  round  buckler,  came  forward  to  an- 
swer the  challenge  of  Bayard,  who,  having  alighted  from 
his  horse,  had  changed  it  for  a  fresh  one,  and  was  ready 
for  the  combat.  The  two  knights  advanced  towards  each 
other,  not  spurring  their  steeds  to  full  speed,  but  re- 
straining them  with  spur  and  bridle  to  half-gallop,  until 
they  came  near  meeting.  In  encounters  of  this  sort  the 
velocity  of  the  onset  would  not  increase  the  force  of  the 
blows,  as  in  the  case  of  a  contest  with  lances.  The  force 
of  a  blow  depended  chiefly  upon  the  nerve  of  the  arm, 
and  in  a  great  measure  upon  managing  the  horse  so  as 
to  make  him  rear  at  the  proper  time  and  poise  on  his 
hind  legs  ;  and  then  as  he  came  down  on  his  forefeet,  the 
knight  would  catch  the  moment  to  let  fall  his  weapon, 
usually  addressing  it  to  the  helmet  of  the  adversary ;  and 
if  this  was  done  with  true  aim,  the  shock  was  generally 
such  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  resist  it.  In  the 
first  encounter,  the  two  horses,  well  broken  and  skilfully 
trained,  reared  and  fell  at  one  time ;  and  the  knights 
being  protected  by  their  shields  could  not  hit  each  other, 
but  passed  on.  The  same  happened  in  the  second  en- 
counter. Bayard  saw  the  manoeuvre  of  his  antagonist ; 
and  the  third  time  he  spurred  more  quickly  against 
Correa,  who  was  forced  to  do  the  same.     As  they  met. 


198  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

the  Frenchman  reined  the  horse  down  on  its  haunches, 
just  as  the  Spaniard,  taken  unawares,  had  made  his  steed 
rear,  and  was  addressing  his  aim  to  the  helmet,  but  the 
horse  alighted  and  the  aim  was  missed.  Bayard  skilfully 
seized  the  moment,  uplifted  the  axe  with  both  hands, 
spurred  his  horse,  and  rising  in  his  stirrups,  dealt  a 
blow  on  the  helmet  of  his  adversary  which  made  him 
reel  over  the  animal's  neck ;  and  when  the  spectators 
thought  that  he  would  recover  himself,  he  fell  to  the 
ground  stunned,  and  two  of  his  squires  bore  him  away 
from  the  lists.  Bayard  left  the  lists  also,  bowing  towards 
the  balcony  of  Lady  Elvira  amidst  the  acclamations  of 
the  whole  amphitheatre,  and  the  music  of  the  bands 
applauding  his  victory.  But  he  had  to  turn  back  and 
fight  Azevedo,  who,  advancing,  had  offered  himself  to 
finish  the  combat  in  place  of  his  comrade.  This  en- 
counter lasted  longer,  and  with  varied  success ;  still 
the  honors  of  the  victory  were  awarded  to  the  French 
knight. 

An  enclosure  had  been  reserved  near  the  entrance 
guarded  by  a  palisade,  for  the  keeping  of  horses,  the 
accommodation  of  armorers,  and  for  a  tent  pitched  for 
the  use  of  the  knights  and  their  attendants,  wherein  they 
might  retire  and  ann  themselves.  Gonzalo  had  given 
instructions  that  everything  should  be  in  readiness  that 
might  be  necessary.  There  might  be  seen  several  tables 
set  to  lay  armors  upon,  a  farrier  with  a  small  portable 
forge,  that  he  might  mend  any  parts  of  the  armors,  and 
lastly,  a  side-table  with  an  abundance  of  wines  and  re- 
freshments. Brancaleone  had  been  detailed  for  the  duty 
of  superintending  this  department,  and  had  been  particu- 
larly charged  to  see  that  nothing  was  wanting. 

Whilst  he  was   performing  his  duty,  Graiano  d'Asti, 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  199 

whom  he  had  seen  on  the  occasion  of  carrying  the  chal- 
lenge to  the  French  camp  with  Fieramosca,  arrived  with 
two  attendants,  who  carried  his  arms  and  led  his  war- 
horse.  Brancaleone,  who,  as  was  his  wont,  had  here- 
tofore spoken  very  little,  advanced  and  greeted  him  with 
more  Avords  and  show  of  courtesy  than  was  his  custom. 
If  you  had  been  well  acquainted  with  his  ways,  observ- 
ing how  he  acted  on  this  occasion,  you  w^ould  have 
easily  known  that  he  had  some  secret  motive  for  forming 
an  acquaintance  with  that  man  ;  in  fact,  he  had  a  particu- 
lar end  in  view,  and  of  great  importance,  as  we  shall  see 
at  the  proper  time. 

After  the  first  welcome  and  offer  of  service,  and  after 
having  pi'ocured  whatever  he  wanted,  Brancaleone  con- 
tinued conversing  with  him,  while  his  attendants  helped 
him  to  disrobe  himself  of  the  costly  garments  he  wore, 
and  to  put  on  a  jacket  and  tight  leather  breeches,  over 
which  he  was  to  fit  the  armor. 

Graiano's  armor  was  of  exquisite  workmanship,  with 
gilt  stripes  on  well-burnished  steel,  and  was  laid  on  the 
table  in  pieces.  Brancaleone  examined  every  part  of  it 
carefully ;  and  holding  the  breast-piece  in  his  hand  to 
help  buckle  it  on  the  knight,  he  saw  that  it  was  a 
double  plate,  and  judged  it  impenetrable ;  the  plate  cov- 
ering the  belly  was  also  double  and  of  equal  strength ; 
and  with  his  practised  eye  he  observed  that  the  braces, 
cuishes,  and  greaves  might  stand  any  blow.  A  close  ob- 
server would  have  remarked  that  during  this  examina- 
tion there  was  something  strange  in  his  countenance,  and 
in  the  grin  on  his  lips ;  but  at  that  moment  none  would 
take  notice  of  it.  Only  the  helmet  remained  to  be  fitted  on  ; 
and  Brancaleone,  as  he  took  it  up  and  examined  it,  per- 
ceived that  its  strength  was  not  in  keeping  with  the  other 


200  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

pieces  ;  he  asked  Graiano  whether  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
wearing  an  iron  head-piece  ;  and  being  answered  in  the 
negative,  he  questioned  him  how  it  happened  that  whilst 
he  protected  every  part  of  his  person  with  arms  so 
strong,  he  neglected  to  use  the  same  precaution  for  the 
head. 

"  Because,"  answered  Graiano,  "  at  the  siege  of  an  in- 
significant little  castle  not  worth  three  cents,  —  and  that 
madcap  of  Montpensier  was  bent  on  taking  it, — just  as  I 
had  applied  the  ladder  to  mount  the  walls,  some  of  those 
Abruzzo  villains  who  defended  it,  rolled  a  huge  stone 
over  me,  which  falling  edgewise,  stove  the  helmet  in,  and 
made  a  hole  in  my  head,  that  will  be  entirely  healed 
only,  I  believe,  when  they  shall  throw  a  shovelful  of  dirt 
over  it.     And  see  here  ! " 

And  saying  this,  he  took  Brancaleone's  hand,  and 
bringing  it  to  his  head,  made  him  feel  a  notch  on  the  top 
of  the  cranium,  from  which  it  was  evident  that  he  could 
not  bear  a  helmet  much  heavier  than  the  one  on  the 
table. 

"  In  consequence  of  this  wound  —  hanged  be  the  man 
who  inflicted  it !  —  I  have  lost  a  great  many  ducats  ;  as  I 
was  obliged  to  leave  King  Charles,  and  remain  under 
cure  for  many  months.  It  is  true,  however,"  he  added 
with  a  laugh,  "  that  by  it  I  got  rid  of  the  burden  of  a 
wife, ....  so  there  was  both  evil  and  good  in  the  whole. 
Then  I  hired  myself  to  that  wretch  of  the  Valenza; 
until,  as  it  pleased  God,  I  rejoined  the  French,  and  with 
them  at  least  there  is  no  rain  falling  on  the  hire,  nor  snow 
either,  and  at  the  close  of  each  month  they  pay  out  florins 
in  ready  money,  as  they  do  at  the  Martelli  Bank  in 
Florence." 

"  But  how  could  this  light  helmet  stand  a  smart  cut  ?  " 
rejoined  Brancaleone. 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  201 

"  Oh  !  "  answered  the  knight,  "  I  don't  trouble  myself 
much  about  that.  First,  it  is  a  Damascus  plate,  and  of  a 
cast  than  which  no  better  can  be  obtained ;  and  then  I 
tell  thee  that  when  in  an  encounter  I  perceive  that  they 
wish  to  chase  the  flies  from  around  my  head,  I  can  use 
the  buckler  so  that  it  will  take  a  man  of  great  skill  to 
reach  me.  See  here"  (and  he  showed  him  the  shield 
and  the  thong  by  which  it  hung)  ;  "  see  how  long  I  have 
it,  in  order  to  keep  my  arm  free." 

Brancaleone  said  no  more,  but  went  on  examining  the 
casque  on  every  side,  and  made  it  ring  with  the  knuckles 
of  his  fingers,  with  an  air  of  nonchalance  which  he  could 
put  on  with  a  wonderful  effect ;  then  he  opened  it,  and 
fitted  it  on  the  head  of  the  knight  with  his  own  hands. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  three  Spaniards  and  Bayard  had 
run  their  career  as  we  have  narrated.  The  latter,  hav- 
ing conquered  his  opponents,  entered  the  tent  where  Grai- 
ano  had  just  finished  arming  himself,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  mounting  his  horse.  The  Knight  of  Asti  spoke 
some  words  of  courtesy  to  the  victor,  and  thinking  that 
Brancaleone  paid  no  attention  to  them,  he  inquired  of 
Bayard  what  he  thought  of  the  antagonists. 

Bayard  took  off  his  gauntlets,  laid  them  with  his  hel- 
met on  the  table,  and  wiping  the  perspiration,  remarked : 

"  Don  Inigo  de  Ayala,  honne  lance,  foy  de  chevalier." 

And  to  the  rest  he  awarded  such  praises  as  he  thought 
they  deserved ;  then  gave  to  the  knight  who  was  going 
forth  to  the  combat  some  advice  concerning  the  encounter 
—  and  it  was  not  lost. 

Graiano  entered  the  lists  nobly  bestriding  a  heavy 
brown  horse  covered  with  housing  of  orange  color,  and  a 
herald  loudly  proclaimed  his  name.  Then  he  advanced 
towards  the  balcony  of   Gonzalo,  and  struck   with  his 

9* 


202  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

lance  the  shields  of  Azevedo  and  Inigo,  and  made  them 
rmg  three  times.  An  involuntary  inward  shudder  shook 
every  fibre  of  Fieramosca's  frame,  as  he  heard  that  name. 
He  again  reproached  himself  for  not  having  informed 
Ginevra  that  he  was  alive  ;  and  as  a  man  is  more  ready 
to  make  good  resolutions  when  the  time  for  their  execu- 
tion is  the  farthest  distant,  he  again  purposed  to  tell  her 
of  it  at  the  first  opportunity. 

By  this  time  the  warriors  had  met,  and  the  Piedmon- 
tese,  who  for  robustness  and  skill  in  combat  was  held 
among  the  very  first,  gained  a  decisive  advantage  over 
Azevedo,  although  he  did  not  succeed  in  unhorsing  him ; 
and  with  Inigo  he  fought  so  well  that  the  judgment  of 
the  spectators  was  generally  awarded  in  his  favor.  ISIany 
of  the  French  party  proved  their  lances  after  him ; 
among  the  rest,  Seigneur  De  la  Pelisse,  Chandenier, 
Obigni,  and  La  Motte,  who,  irritated  by  the  quarrel  he 
had  with  Garcia  on  the  subject  of  fighting  the  bull, 
actually  did  wonders  that  day. 

In  fact,  the  three  Spaniards,  who  had  undertaken  to 
defend  the  lists,  had  the  worst  of  it,  and  were  made  to 
feel  their  rashness  in  taking  alone  the  field  against  the 
best  lances  of  the  French  army.  However,  Inigo  and 
Azevedo  were  still  on  their  saddles  ;  and  Graiano  who 
had  already  tried  his  lance  with  them,  advanced  to  the 
encounter  for  a  second  time.  Perhaps  it  was  fortunate  for 
him  that  so  much  fighting  had  weakened  them  ;  however, 
it  was  his  fortune  to  end  the  contest  by  unhorsing  them 
one  after  the  other,  and  thus  to  carry  off  the  honors  of  the 
day.  In  the  midst  of  the  flourishes  from  the  bands  and 
the  applauses  of  the  spectators,  he  received  from  the  hands 
of  Lady  Elvira  the  rich  helmet,  the  award  of  his  victory. 
The   tournament  being   thus  ended,  Gonzalo   rose,  and 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  203 

accompanied  by  his  daughter,  the  Captain  of  France,  and 
all  the  barons,  resumed  his  way  towards  the  Rock,  where, 
it  being  the  time  for  the  banquet,  the  tables  were  spread, 
and  preparations  actively  pushed.  The  square  and  the 
lists  became  soon  deserted,  the  whole  crowd,  strangers 
and  townsmen,  breaking  up  and  dispersing  towards  their 
homes  or  to  the  taverns,  especially  to  that  of  Venom,  a 
favorite  resort,  and  much  frequented,  where  they  sought 
rest  and  refreshment,  discussing  among  themselves  the 
fortunes  of  the  day. 

The  morning  of  that  day  in  which  fate  had  reserved 
the  most  dreadful  blows  for  Ginevra,  she  had  awakened 
one  hour  later  than  usual.  Filled  with  continual  an- 
guish by  self-reproach,  she  had  not  enjoyed  any  rest  until 
break  of  day  ;  but  her  slumbers  were  broken,  and  troub- 
led with  a  hundred  fantastic  dreams.  Now  she  saw  Fiera- 
mosca  wounded,  and  with  a  failing  eye  looking  up  to  her 
for  comfort ;  again  she  saw  him  victorious,  crowned  with 
glory,  surrounded  by  barons  and  turning  from  her  with 
disdain  ;  he  would  pay  homage  to  another  woman  to 
whom  he  offered  his  hand.  And  in  her  sleep  she  would 
try  to  reassure  herself,  saying :  —  "  happy  I  am  that  it  is 
only  a  dream ! "  —  Still,  she  trembled,  seeming  to  hear 
the  festival  sounds  reechoing  the  joys  of  Ettore's  nuptials, 
the  ringing  of  bells,  and  the  booming  of  the  cannon ;  and 
at  last  their  sound  struck  upon  her  ears  so  that  she  sud- 
denly started,  opened  her  eyes,  and  turning  them  towards 
the  balcony  whence  Barletta  was  seen,  she  felt  that  if 
all  the  rest  had  been  a  dream,  the  noise  that  had  awak- 
ened her  was  a  reality.  She  arose  on  her  bed,  and 
thrusting  her  small  snow-white  foot  from  under  the 
coverlids  into  a  crimson  slipper,  while  she  was  throwing 
around   her   shoulders  a   morning  dress  of  azure   color. 


204  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

parted  with  both  her  hands  the  long  auburn  tresses  fall- 
ing behind  her  ears. 

She  took  her  seat  under  the  vines  of  the  balcony,  gaz- 
ing at,  with  eyes  dazzled  by  the  light  of  a  serene  and 
liquid  sky,  the  majestic  panorama  displayed  before  her. 

The  sun  had  been  two  hours  above  the  horizon,  and 
illumined  the  shore,  the  town,  and  the  Rock.  From  be- 
tween the  turrets  and  the  galleries  of  the  citadel,  globes 
of  smoke,  as  if  suddenly  created,  of  a  color  like  that  of 
the  pearl,  pierced  through  with  darting  tongues  of  fire, 
and  reflecting  a  white  light  from  the  rays  of  the  sun,  — 
rolled  up  in  a  thousand  forms  and  shapes  towards  the 
sky,  vanishing  away  in  the  azure  atmosphere ;  then  in  a 
few  seconds  the  peal  rolled  forward,  and  rebounding  from 
the  tranquil  waves,  it  reechoed  on  the  rocks  of  the  shore, 
and  slowly  died  away  in  a  faint  rumbling  sound,  asnidst 
the  farthest  recesses  of  the  mountains.  The  Rock  and 
the  town,  enveloped  at  times  in  smoke  which  was  quickly 
dispersed  by  the  sea-breeze,  were  mirrored  in  the  green 
hue  of  the  calm  waters,  and  their  inverted  image  was 
reproduced,  flickering,  but  perfect,  in  the  sea. 

Wafted  on  by  the  wind,  the  sound  was  more  or  less 
strong  according  to  the  increasing  or  decreasing  power  of 
the  breeze.  In  the  stillness  of  the  Monastery,  even  the 
shouts  and  the  hurrahs  of  the  spectators  might,  at  times,  be 
distinctly  heard,  as  they  cheered  the  Captain  of  Spain. 
But  neither  these  tokens  of  festivity,  nor  the  charming 
vista  displayed  before  her  eyes,  could  lift  from  Ginevra's 
soul  the  weight  of  sadness  which  oppressed  it  A  new 
sting,  equally  painful,  was  now  added  to  that  of  remorse ; 
the  suspicion  of  being  betrayed  by  him  for  whose  sake 
she  had  made  the  immense  sacrifice  of  disregarding  the 
claims  of  duty  and  of  conscience.     Her  mind  repelled, 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  205 

and  her  heart  abhorred  the  doubt ;  but  still  there  was  a 
doubt.  Whoever  has  tried  it,  let  him  tell  how  easy  it  is  to 
expel  it.  And  in  fact,  although  there  was  no  truth  in  her 
fears,  still  there  existed  circumstances  which  might  give 
a  semblance  of  reality  to  the  foundation  of  her  doubts. 

Ettore  had  certainly  succeeded  in  concealing  from  her 
the  meeting  with  Graiano,  but  accustomed  as  he  was  to 
lay  all  his  thoughts  and  secrets  before  her,  he  could  not 
feign  so  well  as  not  to  let  her  perceive  that  there  was 
lurking  in  his  heart  a  secret  of  which  she  had  not  been 
made  the  confidant. 

On  the  other  hand  the  marked  change  in  Zorais'  man- 
ners was  a  thorn  which  she  could  not  pluck  from  her 
heart.  She  would  say  to  herself:  —  "Who  will  assure 
me  that  Ettore  himself  has  not  guessed  ?  How  can  I  be 
made  sure  that  he  does  not  encourage  her  ?  "  And  while 
she  endeavored  to  draw  a  conclusion  from  all  these 
premises,  she  found  herself  entangled  in  a  labyrinth  of 
doubts,  without  a  thread  to  lead  her  out. 

Distressed  and  fatigued  with  so  much  mental  anguish, 
she  rose  to  look  for  relief  and  comfort,  and  made  inquiries 
about  Zorais  ;  she  was  not  at  home.  She  went  to  the  gar- 
den ;  she  was  not  there.  She  inquired  of  the  few  persons 
who  had  remained  at  the  Monastery,  but  none  could  give 
her  any  information.  An  iron  grasp  almost  palsied  her 
heart,  and  a  thousand  shapeless  suspicions  crowded  upon 
her  mind.  She  then  approached  the  tower  by  which 
the  entry  to  the  island  is  protected.  She  saw  it  deserted, 
and  not  one  single  man  on  guard ;  the  Conestabile  had 
gone  to  the  jousts  and  his  men  had  followed  suit.  She 
passed  the  bridge  and  kept  on  walking  along  the  beach, 
with  the  sea  at  her  right,  and  on  the  left  the  steepness  of 
the  mountain  covered  with  heavy  underwood.     With  a 


206  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

weary  step,  and  a  mind  overburdened  with  thoughts,  she 
paid  no  attention  to  what  was  going  on  around  her.  But 
all  at  once  she  started  at  a  rustling  noise  among  the 
branches  ;  and  to  her  great  terror,  she  saw  emerging  from 
it  a  man  who,  advancing  with  tottering  steps,  covered 
with  rags,  steeped  in  blood,  torn  by  thorns  and  briars,  and 
with  long,  unkempt,  matted  hair  falling  upon  his  face,  ap- 
proached her  and  fell  on  his  knees.  At  first  she  thought 
of  flying  away,  but  naturally  courageous  and  fearless,  she 
stood  still ;  and  looking  at  the  man  who  had  appeared  be- 
fore her  in  that  guise  so  strange,  she  recognized  at  length 
the  chieftain  Pietraccio,  whom,  following  the  plan  laid  by 
Don  Miguel,  she  and  Fieramosca  had  involuntarily  set  at 
liberty.  The  affair  had  turned  out  as  Valentino's  emis- 
sary had  foreseen ;  whilst  they  were  busy  about  the 
woman,  Pietraccio  had  taken  to  his  heels,  run  up  stairs, 
and  then  through  the  gate,  clearing  his  way  with  the  sti- 
letto he  had  in  his  hand ;  and,  although  wounded  and 
chased  by  many,  he  had  succeeded  in  gaining  the  woods, 
and  being  well  acquainted  with  them,  and  a  very  swift  run- 
ner, had  saved  himself.  Not  to  fall  in  the  hands  of  those 
who  had  been  dispatched  after  him,  he  was  obliged  to  live 
most  miserably,  hidden  in  the  densest  parts  of  the  forest ; 
and  now  finding  himself  near  her,  to  whom  he  supposed 
he  owed  his  freedom,  and  therefore  had  no  reason  to  fear, 
goaded  by  hardship  and  hunger,  he  implored  her  compas- 
sion, making  use  of  signs  to  make  her  understand  his 
great  misery,  which  however  was  evident  in  his  very 
appearance.  Ginevra  felt  both  loathing  and  pity  for  the 
wretch,  and  bade  him  not  to  fear,  —  that  at  the  Monastery 
there  was  no  person  but  the  nuns,  and  the  tower  being 
for  that  day  abandoned,  he  might  follow  her  to  a  wood- 
house  under  her  quarters,  where  she  would  care  for  him. 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  207 

The  assassin,  who  peradventure  felt  that  death  would 
have  been  preferable  to  such  a  life,  followed  her,  and 
reached  the  hiding-place  without  being  seen  by  any  per- 
son. The  tender  hearted  woman  brought  him  refresh- 
ments and  bandaged  the  wound,  which,  however  not  very 
severe,  still  needed  care,  and  with  some  straw  prepared 
for  him  a  couch  as  well  as  she  could.  As  she  was  re- 
turning up  stairs,  Zorais  and  Gennaro  had  just  landed 
from  the  skiff,  returned  from  Barletta. 

Ginevra  could  not  refrain  from  making  a  mild  com- 
plaint to  the  maiden  who  had  left  home  in  the  morning 
without  telling  her. 

"  Dear  Zorais  !  I  have  been  very  uneasy  searching  for 
thee  all  over  the  island  ;  why  not  have  told  me  that  thou 
wert  going  ?  " 

"  Not  to  awake  thee,"  was  Zorais'  reply ;  and  the  want 
of  sincerity  in  the  answer  suffused  her  countenance  with 
a  slight  vermilion  tint,  which  Ginevra  noticed ;  and  then 
added :  — 

"  I  left  very  early  with  Gennaro,  and  .  .  ." 

"  And,"  interrupted  Ginevra  with  a  smile,  "  thou  didst 
not  know  last  night  that  thou  wert  going  ?  " 

Such  direct  thrust  added  a  tint  of  spite  to  the  shame 
which  had  already  crimsoned  Zorais'  face  :  —  "  Yes  .  .  . 
I  had  some  idea  of  going.  "  —  Then,  resuming  the  thread 
of  her  conversation  :  "  Long  since,"  she  said,  "  I  have 
wished  to  witness  one  of  these  jousts,  and  see  whether 
they  are  in  fact  anything  better  than  the  Arabian  festi- 
vals. But  viva  Diof  with  us,  what  is  here  performed 
by  knights  and  lords,  would  be  done,  beshrew  me !  by 
slaves,  and  none  of  our  noblemen  would  jeopard  his 
life  for  the  amusement  of  three  or  four  thousand  specta- 
tors of  the  lowest  rabble." 


208  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

Ginevra,  perceiving  that  Zorais,  to  avoid  the  necessity 
of  giving  an  account  of  the  motives  she  had  in  going  to 
Barletta,  insisted  on  talking  about  the  lists,  did  not  at- 
tempt to  urge  the  matter  any  further,  and  remarked, 
"  Then  it  was  a  fine  tournament  ?  " 

"  Fine  ?  indeed  it  was ! "  chimed  in  Gennaro,  who 
was  dying  with  the  wish  of  being  himself  the  narrator  of 
events,  and  beginning  from  the  appearance  of  Gonzalo, 
he  described  to  the  best  of  his  abilities,  the  splendor  and 
gorgeousness  of  the  barons ;  then,  thinking  it  would 
gratify  her,  he  continued,  with  a  toss  of  the  head  and  a 
pressure  of  the  lips,  while  with  his  hand  he  twirled  his  cap 
in  a  hundred  ways :  "  And  if  you  had  seen  your  brother ! 
how  he  mounted  his  horse  !  a  splendid  colt,  of  the  color 
of  silver ;  it  was  on  every  tongue  —  what  a  handsome 
youth  !  —  And  to  tell  the  truth,  with  that  azure  mantle 
of  yours,  he  was  quite  a  picture.  I  almost  killed  myself 
to  foUow  the  cavalcade  out  of  the  gates  !  By  the  power 
of  ray  elbows,  I  assure  you,  truly  .  .  .  but  when  the 
daughter  of  Signor  Gonzalo  came  out  of  her  litter,  I 
was  as  near  to  her  as  I  am  to  you  now ;  and  Signor 
Ettore  helped  her  on  the  saddle  .  .  .  that  is,  I'll  say  it 
more  exactly,  she  leaned  her  foot  on  his  knee,  a  little 
foot,  see ! "  —  and  to  show  the  exact  measure  of  it,  he  ex- 
tended the  thumb  of  the  right  hand,  with  the  fore-finger 
of  the  left  pointing  to  its  joint,  —  "  and  then  up,  like  a 
cricket ;  and  do  you  know  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you  ? 
I  should  not  think  that  she  is  displeased  with  your 
brother,  if  we  judge  from  the  way  she  acted  after  be- 
ing on  the  saddle, — she  spoke  to  him  such  fine  words,  she 
put  on  such  looks  !  blessed  are  those  who  saw  it !  And 
he,  I  saw  it,  he  blushed ;  the  Lord  knows  what  they 
have  said  to  each  other  !    and   I    thought  to  myself,  it 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  209 

would  be  queer  if  Signer  Ettore  should  marry :  they 
■would  be  a  very  handsome  pair,  I  tell  you ;  they  seem 
made  for  each  other." 

The  reader  can  imagine  whether  this  account  with  its 
comments  could  be  grateful  to  Ginevra.  She  could  bear 
it  no  longer,  and  wishing  to  get  rid  of  him,  said  shortly  : 

"  Well,  well  .  .  .  you  will  tell  me  all  some  other  time." 
And  she  turned  around  to  retire  to  her  rooms  with  Zorais. 
But  Gennaro,  who  was  in  good  earnest  with  his  story, 
was  not  to  be  put  off  in  that  way,  and  continued : 

"  Eh,  this  is  nothing !  you  ought  to  have  been  there 
during  the  jousts,  in  the  balcony  occupied  by  the  folks  of 
quality  ;  he  sat  by  her  constantly,  and  they  kept  on  talk- 
ing continually ;  and  then,  Signora  Zorais  can  tell  you 
how  they  had  attracted  the  attention  of  all.  And  in  fact, 
the  host  of  the  Sun  Tavern,  he  who  provides  the  wines 
for  the  folks  at  the  Rock,  said  that  the  father  has  con- 
sented to  his  marrying  her ;  it  would  be  a  grand  affair, 
you  know  !  how  many  thousand  of  fine  ducats  !  It  would 
be  far  different  from  that  hard  life  of  his,  always  on  horse- 
back, exposed  to  the  rain  and  to  the  wind." 

Ginevra,  to  break  up  this  conversation,  which  pained 
her  too  much,  albeit  she  knew  the  hoUowness  of  its  mean- 
ing, said : 

"  But  the  tournament ;  will  you  tell  me  about  the  tour- 
nament, at  last  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  tournament !  There  is  no  remembrance  of 
the  like  in  Barletta." 

And  here,  starting  with  the  bull-fight,  and  the  prowess 
of  Don  Garcia,  he  went  on  describing  the  encounter  with 
battle-axe  and  lance,  repeating  all  the  names  loudly  pro- 
claimed by  the  hei-alds.  His  memory  served  him  too 
well,  when,  drawing  near  to  the  end,  he  said  : 


210  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

"  What  crowned  the  feast,  were  the  exploits  of  Signor 
Don  Graiano  d'Asti,  who  unsaddled  the  three  Spaniards 
one  after  another." 

"  Who,  who  ?  "  asked  Ginevra,  with  an  emotion  in  her 
manners,  and  a  faltering  in  her  voice,  too  violent  to  be 
suppressed. 

"  One  Signor  Don  Graiano  d'Asti ;  he  must  be  a  great 
baron,  so  rich  and  costly  were  his  armor  and  housings." 

"  Graiano  d'Asti,  didst  thou  say  ?  Was  he  great,  or 
small  ?  was  he  young  ?  . .  .  how  did  he  look  ?  " 

Gennaro  had  not  missed  one  single  jot  of  the  arms, 
physiognomies  and  bearing  of  all  the  combatants,  and  he 
remembered  Graiano  as  if  he  had  him  before  his  eyes, 
because  the  baron  had  entered  the  lists  with  raised  vizor, 
and  was  seen  full  in  his  countenance,  so  that  he  could  de- 
scribe him  most  minutely  ;  and  he  left  not  the  least  doubt 
in  Ginevra's  mind  as  to  his  identity  with  her  husband. 
Nevertheless,  she  controlled  herself  so  far  as  to  conceal 
in  part  the  violent  tumult  of  feelings  which  overwhelmed 
her  heart,  and  to  avert  the  danger  of  betraying  her  secret. 
While  Gennaro  was  doing  his  best  to  convey  a  correct 
picture  of  the  form  and  features  of  the  baron,  she  had 
time  to  recover  herself;  but  perceiving  that  the  two 
hearers  had  still  remarked  that  she  had  faltered  on  hear- 
ing that  name  mentioned,  to  do  away  with  any  suspicion, 
she  said,  when  the  gardener  had  done  speaking : 

"  Do  not  wonder  that  I  feel  disturbed  at  the  mention  of 
that  name  ;  some  time  ago  strange  occurrences  took  place 
between  his  house  and  ours  ;  but  they  afterwards  became 
reconciled,  and  for  many  years  there  has  been  no  cause 
for  scandal ;  but  I  was  very  far  from  thinking  that  he 
would  be  in  Barletta  now,  and  under  French  pay." 

After  saying  this  she  turned  to  go  to  her  rooms ;  but 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  211. 

Zorais  and  Gennaro  could  not  but  suspect,  from  the  color 
of  her  countenance,  which  changed  several  times,  that  she 
was  much  pained  by  some  secret  and  weighty  thought ; 
still  they  did  not  follow  her ;  and  when  she  had  left,  the 
gardener  said  to  the  maiden  : 

"  Is  she  unwell  ?  or  have  I  said  anything  which  was 
not  proper?"  Zorais  had  something  else  in  her  mind,  and 
could  not  herself  well  define  by  what  thoughts  and  by 
what  suspicions  she  was  haunted ;  hence  she  replied  by 
a  shrugging  of  her  shoulders,  and  departed,  wishing  no 
less  than  her  companion  to  be  alone.  Gennaro  who  had 
been  left  there,  with  cap  in  hand,  grumbled  as  he  went 
his  way :  —  "  They  are  all  alike  !  great  is  the  man  who 
can  understand  them  !  "  — 

In  the  meantime  Ginevra  was  going  to  her  chamber  by 
the  private  stairs,  and  she  felt  at  every  step  as  if  the 
world  were  falling  on  her  shoulders ;  she  breathed  with 
increasing  difficulty,  and  the  throbbing  of  her  heart  was 
so  violent  that  she  almost  fainted.  She  incessantly  re- 
peated in  almost  a  whisper  :  —  "  0  !  Virgin  Mother,  help 
me  ! "  —  and  as  the  suffering  increased  she  could  only 
say  :  —  "  ?ny  God!  my  God!  "  —  At  last  the  pressure  was 
such  that  her  knees  gave  way,  and  having  with  great 
effort  reached  the  fourth  or  fifth  step,  she  could  go  no 
farther,  and  sank.  With  a  breathing  quick  and  broken, 
and  her  brow  bathed  in  spasmodic  perspiration,  she 
thought :  —  I  cannot  live  till  to-morrow  !  —  She  had 
heard  Zorais  entering  her  own  room,  and  she  knew  that 
the  nuns  were  at  rest  in  their  cells,  it  being  the  warm 
hour  of  the  afternoon ;  still  the  fear  of  being  discovered 
in  that  place  and  in  that  state  added  to  her  discomfort ; 
and  to  avoid  the  danger  of  it,  she  gave  up  the  thought 
of  going  to  her  room,  and  resolved  to  go  to  the  church 


212  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

by  the  small  gate  of  the  cloister.  She  felt  that  only 
there  she  might  hope  to  obtain  relief  and  protection 
against  the  evils  by  which  she  was  threatened.  Thus 
she  made  her  way  to  the  church  as  best  she  could,  at 
times  leaning  against  the  walls,  and  then  endeavoring  to 
walk  as  usual,  if  she  happened  to  see  some  lay-sister 
loitering  in  the  cloisters,  or  some  nun's  head  peeping  out 
of  the  window. 

The  church  was  deserted ;  she  threw  herself  on  the 
first  step  of  the  choir  as  she  entered,  and  for  a  long  while 
she  remained  in  that  posture  with  her  head  resting  be- 
tween her  hands,  and  her  elbows  on  her  knees,  trying  to 
recover  herself,  and  with  her  mind  a  prey  to  so  many 
distracting  thoughts,  that  it  might  actually  be  said  she 
had  none  whatever. 

Behind  the  high  altar,  eight  or  ten  steps  of  marble  led 
to  a  subterranean  chapel,  where  five  silver  lamps  burned 
night  and  day  before  a  picture  of  the  Mother  of  God, 
which  a  tradition  from  time  immemorial  reported  to  have 
been  painted  by  Saint  Luke.  The  wonders  said  to  have 
been  performed  in  that  spot  were  the  cause  of  build- 
ing a  church  near  the  Monastery.  The  chapel  was 
hexagonal,  the  shrine  and  the  venerable  image  being 
opposite  the  entrance ;  at  each  angle  a  column  sur- 
mounted by  a  capital  made  of  foliage  heavily  carved  in 
the  olden  style,  supported  one  of  the  ridges  which  con- 
verged with  the  vault  into  a  culminating  slab,  of  the  shape 
of  a  mill-stone,  with  a  hole  in  the  centre,  protected  by  a 
grate,  and  opening  in  the  upper  church  at  the  foot  of  the 
high  altar.  A  slender  ray  of  the  sun,  entering  through 
the  stained  glasses  of  one  of  the  large  windows  from  the 
cupola  of  the  church,  worked  its  way  to  the  subterranean 
chapel   through  that   hole.     That  beam  descended  into 


ETTOKE   FIERAMOSCA.  213 

a  darkness  scarcely  broken  by  the  feeble  and  red- 
dish glare  of  the  lamps,  and  entering  in  the  form  of  a 
cylinder,  reproduced  on  the  pavement  the  color  of  the 
windows  and  the  shape  of  the  grate.  Ginevra  fell  on  her 
knees  at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  and  as  she  was  crossing 
that  beam,  the  light  reflected  from  the  gloss  of  the  azure 
dress  she  wore,  illumined  for  a  moment,  like  the  flash  of  a 
pale  lamp,  the  whole  chapel. 

With  her  hands  closely  clasped  on  her  bosom,  and  her 
eyes  fixed  on  the  image,  she  began  to  pray,  and  she  felt 
the  beating  of  her  pulse  become  more  regular,  and  the 
heaving  of  her  heart  growing  calmer  by  degrees.  That 
prayer,  not  uttered  by  her  lips,  but  issuing  from  the  heart 
and  expressing  her  feelings,  restored  peace  and  tranquility 
to  the  soul. 

Like  all  ancient  paintings,  the  countenance  of  that 
Madonna  portrayed  a  certain  sadness,  so  divine  and  so 
august,  that  the  young  woman  felt  as  if  she  met  with  sym- 
pathy in  her  trials,  and  even,  by  keeping  her  eye  riveted 
upon  it,  she  imagined  that  she  perceived  a  flashing  in 
the  eye,  by  which  she  was  inspired  with  a  holy  terror. 
Still  she  felt  comfort,  and  giving  vent  to  her  feelings,  she 
cried :  "  Holy  and  glorious  Virgin  !  who  am  I,  to  deserve 
mercy  and  pity  from  Thee  ?  And  still  who  shall  help  me, 
if  Thou  wilt  not  ?  Behold  at  Thy  feet  all  my  trials  ;  see 
that  I  cannot  bear  them,  and  have  no  strength  to  free 
myself  from  them  !  O !  Mother  mine,  most  merciful, 
nerve  my  heart  so  that  I  may  at  last  do  what  I  wish ! " 
And  with  her  eyes  continually  riveted  upon  the  image, 
and  bathed  in  tears  which  streamed  down  her  cheeks  and 
her  bosom,  she  remained  for  a  long  time  thus  placing  her- 
self under  the  protection  of  her  who  delights  to  be  called 
the  mother  and  comforter  of  the  afflicted ;  and  she  felt  from 


214  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

her  own  experience  how  much  comfort  can  still  be  ob- 
tained from  heaven,  when  one  has  lost  everything,  even 
hope,  on  earth. 

She  recalled  to  mind  all  the  hours  of  her  past  life,  the 
innocent  joys  of  childhood,  the  affections  of  youth,  the 
first  whispers  of  love,  and  its  first  remorses  ;  then  that 
torrent  of  trials  and  of  griefs  flooded  upon  her  after  she 
was  married  ;  —  then  she  thought  of  how  she  had  spent 
those  latter  years  in  continual  vicissitudes  of  brief  happi- 
ness —  not  even  unalloyed  —  and  so  much  bitterness,  and 
scorching  remorse.  And  now,  moreover,  as  it  happens 
at  the  end  of  a  dream  which  vanishes  like  mist,  she  saw 
vanishing  even  the  hope  on  which  she  had  fed  so  long, 
that  Ettore  would  never  change  his  feelings  for  her. 
And  when  shaken  by  so  many  blows,  wishing  to  fol- 
low the  voice  of  God  who  called  her,  still  not  feeUng 
resolution  enough  to  yield  to  it,  behold  the  divine  will 
manifesting  itself  with  a  louder  voice,  and  leading  her  to 
the  road  in  which  she  wa^  to  walk,  by  revealing  to  her  in 
a  manner  so  unexpected  the  existence  of  her  husband.  — 
All  doubts  were  now  removed  —  she  thought.  —  As  long 
as  I  could  persuade  myself  that  he  was  living  no  more,  I 
could  perhaps  excuse  myself;  but  what  a  wretch  I  would 
prove  to  be  if  I  continued  so  !  — 

But  here  a  new  obstacle  presented  itself :  —  And 
when  I  meet  him,  he  will  ask  me:  where  hast  thou 
been  all  this  time  ?  — 

It  was  not  so  very  easy  to  find  an  answer  to  that. 
This  idea  presented  itself  so  forcibly,  that  she  felt  it 
would  be  impossible  for  her  to  meet  the  eyes  of  her 
judge,  and  she  at  once  abandoned  the  idea  entirely,  and 
turned  to  some  other  way  of  getting  out  of  that  labyrinth. 
However,  the  more  she  reflected  the  stronger  was  the 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  215 

feeling  of  duty  that  came  over  lier,  that  the  very  step 
she  wished  not  to  lake,  was  the  only  one  she  was  bound 
to,  —  the  only  thing  she  could  and  ought  to  do  ;  and  she 
would  say  to  herself:  Of  whom  should  I  complain  but  of 
myself?  Had  I  acted  otherwise,  and  as  I  ought  to  have 
acted,  I  should  not  be  obliged  now  to  undergo  this  humil- 
iation, so  bitter  ;  but  the  longer  I  put  it  off,  the  more  bit- 
ter it  will  become. 

The  temper  of  Ginevra's  soul  was  a  strong  one,  and 
hence  she  loathed  to  be  long  time  wavering  in  her  reso- 
lution ;  and  she  courageously  resolved  —  Can  I  live  for- 
ever in  this  remorse  ?  No.  Can  I  refuse  the  hopes, 
and  blunt  the  terrors  of  a  future  life  ?  No.  Therefore 
let  me  follow  my  duty,  happen  what  may  ;  the  trials  I  am 
going  to  meet  will  be  an  atonement  for  my  errors  ;  and 
thou,  my  good  Mother,  thou  wilt  have  mercy  on  me  in 
this  world  and  in  the  next.  Should  Graiano  withdraw 
his  pardon  from  me,  what  can  he  do  ?  kill  me  ?  My  im- 
mortal soul  will  take  its  flight  towards  God,  and  it  will 
have  in  its  power  to  offer  deeds  of  penance,  and  deserve 
mercy  and  forgiveness. 

After  having  poured  forth  her  soul  in  a  last  most  fervid 
prayer,  she  went  to  the  upper  church  with  a  quick  and 
firm  step,  thus  feeling  that  she  was,  as  it  were,  adding 
courage  to  herself,  and  closed  herself  in  her  room  to 
make  such  preparations  as  would  help  to  carry  out  her 
resolution.  She  sat,  as  it  was  her  wont,  on  the  balcony 
which  overlooked  Barletta,  and  began  to  muse.  There 
was  not  a  more  propitious  day  to  return  to  her  husband, 
certain  as  she  was  to  find  him  at  the  festivals  in  the  Rock 
of  Barletta,  to  which  she  might  go  in  half  an  hour's 
travel  by  sea.  If,  on  the  contrary,  she  should  wait  until 
he  had  returned  to  the  French  camp,  she  would  have  to 


216  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

meet  a  great  many  more  obstacles.  Hence  she  reasoned 
thus  :  Here  there  is  no  room  for  a  doubt ;  I  must  be  with 

him  before  to-morrow But  how  to  arrange  matters 

with  Ettore !  To-day  he  will  not  come,  that  is  certain  ; 
to  wait,  I  cannot ;  to  leave  the  island,  to  abandon  him, 
and  not  even  let  him  know  what  has  become  of  me,  after 
I  owe  my  life  and  so  much  else  to  him  !  Here  a  thought 
spx'ang  up  in  her  mind,  worthy  only  of  a  soul  so  noble  as 
hers.  —  If  in  leaving  him,  she  thought,  I  let  him  know 
how  my  heart  yearns  after  him,  I  know  too  well,  that  I 
shall  make  him  miserable  for  life  ;  but  if,  on  the  contrary, 
I  go  without  acquainting  him  with  my  motives,  he  will 
think  I  am  an  ungrateful  wretch ;  soon  will  the  memory 
of  so  miserable  a  being  like  myself  be  erased  from  his 

mind She  could  not  brook  the  thought ;  she  sighed 

bitterly,  and  said — my  sins  are  great,  but  these  pains  are 
even  so  horrible ! 

With  that  restless  anxiety  which  is  always  felt  when 
the  soul  undergoes  some  violent  revulsion,  she  rose,  and 
wiping  her  eyes  with  the  back  of  her  hand,  began  to  put 
together  the  few  articles  she  intended  to  carry  with  her. 
Rummaging  in  a  chest,  she  came  across  some  remnants  of 
the  azure  mantle  of  Fieramosca,  and  of  the  silver  thread 
with  which  it  had  been  embroidered.  We  leave  to  the 
reader  to  imagine  what  feelings  that  sight  gave  rise  to  in 
Ginevra's  heart. 

The  first  impulse  was  to  take  them  and  stow  theili  with 
the  few  articles  she  intended  to  take  with  her ;  but  on  a 
second  thought,  she  put  them  back  in  the  same  place, 
and  said  —  No !  .  .  .  .  every  recollection  of  him  must  be 
cancelled,  and  forever ;  it  will  be  enough  for  me  here 
below  to  know  that  he  is  happy  on  my  account. 

She  wrote  to  the  Abbess,  thanking  her  for  the  hospi- 


ETTORE   FIEKAMOSCA.  217 

table  kindness  bestowed  upon  her,  and  recommending  her 
friend ;  told  her  that  a  reason  of  great  importance  con- 
strained her  to  depart  without  taking  leave,  and  she 
hoped  to  be  very  soon  in  a  place  whence  she  could  give 
her  a  more  detailed  and  satisfactory  account  of  herself. 

Having  thus  fulfilled  this  last  duty,  she  had  nothing 
else  to  do  in  the  Monasteiy  ;  but  she  did  not  wish  to  start 
before  night.  It  was  then  one  hour  before  sunset,  and 
she  I'esigned  herself  to  wait  patiently  on  the  balcony. 
But  she  could  not  have  chosen  a  more  trying  manner  of 
spending  her  time.  If  she  turned  her  eyes  to  the  interior 
of  the  room,  the  sight  of  the  little  bundle  she  had  laid  on 
the  table,  and  which  was  to  keep  her  company  in  a  jour- 
ney of  so  much  anxiety,  gave  her  a  foretaste,  as  it  were, 
of  keen  troubles.  If  she  looked  at  the  bed,  made  up  as 
usual  by  the  lay-sister,  she  would  think  that  she  had 
occupied  it  the  night  before  for  the  last  time,  and  only 
God  knew  where  she  would  pillow  her  head  the  night 
following.  Outside  the  balcony  it  was  even  worse.  She 
looked  over  that  span  of  the  sea  which  separated  Ber 
from  the  Rock  of  Barletta,  and  then  she  would  think  of 
all  those  evenings,  when  straining  her  eyes  she  descried 
the  little  boat  of  Fieramosca  advancing  from  the  shore, 
like  a  black  dot  on  the  waters.  She  was  now  about 
sailing  over  the  same  waters  ;  but  to  what  purpose  ?  .  .  . 

10 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

While  Ginevra,  in  this  torture  of  mind,  longed  for, 
and  at  the  same  time  feared  the  approach  of  night,  Pie- 
traccio,  hidden  in  the  woodhouse  under  her  rooms,  was 
waiting  for  her  with  feelings  both  of  suspicion  and  im- 
patience, hoping  that  she  would  come  at  twilight  to  show 
him  the  way  of  escaping  unobserved. 

The  scanty  light  which  made  its  way  into  that  hole  came 
from  a  high  window  which  opened  on  a  level  with  the 
ground,  and  looked  over  a  deserted  place  in  the  back  part 
of  the  monastery,  covered  all  over  with  briars  and  net- 
tles, where  it  seemed  that  no  man  would  ever  step  his 
foot.  The  robber  was  frightened  as  he  heard  some  steps 
advancing  through  those  bushes,  and  his  fears  were 
greatly  quickened  when  he  saw  a  man  approaching  whom 
he  recognized  at  once.  It  was  the  Conestabile  of  the 
tower.  He  would  have  chosen  to  hide  himself  among 
the  fagots,  but  fearing  lest  the  rustling  of  the  dry  leaves 
might  betray  him,  he  kept  quiet  where  he  was,  even  hold- 
ing his  breath ;  but  he  distinctly  overheard  the  conversa- 
tion which  passed  between  the  Conestabile  and  a  man  who 
accompanied  him. 

Martino  began  :  "  There,  that  window  on  the  second 
story,  where  you  see  a  cage  and  a  flower-pot ;  as  you 
see,  you  can  reach  it  even  without  a  ladder  by  the  grate 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  219 

of  the  window  on  the  first  floor  without  trouble.  Well, 
....  when  you  are  up,  you  will  find  yourself  in  an  entry 
with  many  doors  in  it ;  but,  mark  it  well,  the  first  on  the 
left  is  the  room  of  my  lady.  However,  there  is  none 
else  in  the  strangers'  quarters.  At  one  o'clock  aU  the 
nuns  are  in  bed.  If  you  know  how  to  go  to  work,  you 
can  come  here  at  three  and  carry  away  the  guest,  and  be 
already  a  mile  off  before  they  can  think  of  you.  I  will 
shut  up  the  dogs.  I  have  given  leave  of  absence  to  my 
men  ;  and  I  assure  you  that  whoever  wants  them  to- 
night will  have  to  drum  them  out  of  the  taverns  of  Bar- 
letta.  So  you  are  now  satisfied ;  but  take  care,  and  say 
to  that  devil  of  your  associate  that  he  must  look  after  his 
own  business,  —  that  I  do  not  intend  to  forfeit  the  pro- 
visions I  get  from  the  Abbess  for  the  barter  of  a  few 
florins ;  therefore,  look  out  sharp ;  because  if  you  make 
a  botch  of  it,  I  have  already  taken  every  precaution  to 
throw  the  whole  blame  on  you  all,  and  have  my  shoulders 
safe.  A  clear  bargain  makes  friends  dear.  Patti  chiari, 
amid  carir 

Boscherino,  to  whom  all  these  words  had  been  ad- 
dressed, lightly  pulling  one  of  the  moustaches  of  the 
Conestibile  by  one  end,  answered  hira,  with  a  shake  of 
his  head,  thus  :  — 

"  To  throw  the  dirty  water  on  him  for  whom  we  em- 
bark in  this  undertaking,  you  will  have  to  throw  it  very 
high,  and  it  will  need  a  stronger  arm  than  thine.  And 
you  may  thank  San  Martino  that  the  Castle  of  Barletta 
is  far  off,  and  a  certain  wight  staying  there  cannot  hear 
thee,  because,  I  tell  thee,  although  we  are  in  April  now 
he  would  make  thee  feel  it  was  January.  Follow  my  ad- 
vice, brother ;  of  this  whole  affair,  whether  we  succeed 
or  not,  the  less  thou  shalt  say,  the  better  for  thee." 


220  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

Martino  had  partaken  of  Gonzalo's  dinner  at  Barletta, 
and  had  imbibed  so  much  that  he  felt  lion-hearted,  and 
answered,  without  being  intimidated  :  — 

"  And  I  say  to  you  again  that  I  have  not  the  least  fear 
in  the  world,  and  if  1  have  consented  to  lend  you  a  hand 
in  this  undertaking,  T  have  done  it  more  because  it  is 
customary  between  soldiers  to  give  each  other  a  lift,  than 
for  the  paltry  sum  of  a  few  ducats ;  and  I  feel  not  dis- 
posed to  break  my  neck  and  lose  my  bread  for  whomso- 
ever I  know  not ;  so  I  will  tell  you  in  plain  words,  —  be 
careful,  because,  if  you  are  detected,  I  know  how  to  get  out 
of  a  scrape  ;  and  let  the  man  -who  orders  this  exploit  be 
whosoever  he  may,  I'll  laugh  at  him  when  I  am  in  my 
tower.    So  we  understand  each  other.  —  Fare  thee  well." 

Having  said  this  much,  he  went  to  the  tower,  leaving 
Boscherino  to  survey  the  place  at  his  own  ease.  The 
latter  allowed  him  to  go,  casting  after  him  a  smile  of 
compassion,  and  then  he  could  not  refrain  from  saying  in 
a  tone  of  voice  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  Pieftraccio :  — 

"  What  a  miserable  ass !  Just  think,  he  will  measure 
himself  with  Cesare  Borgia !  He  would  have  met  the 
man  who  would  quench  his  thirst  by  giving  him  salt  pork 
to  eat !  Of  course,  it  is  a  pint  of  Alicante  that  talks 
within  him  now." 

These  words,  as  well  as  the  whole  preceding  dialogue, 
were  heard,  and  very  closely  listened  to,  by  the  assassin  ; 
and  they  were  enough  to  make  him  reach  the  conclusion, 
that  by  order  of  Valentino  the  abduction  of  his  protec- 
tress had  been  planned,  and  that  the  Duke  was  then  in 
the  Rock  of  Barletta.  We  may  believe,  without  fear  of 
doing  any  wrong  to  Pietraccio,  that  the  idea  of  defending 
the  lady  was  not  his  paramount  thought ;  what  did  he 
know  of  gratitude  ?     But  the  hope  of  baffling  a  plan  of 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  221 

the  greatest  enemy  of  liis  mother  and  of  himself,  a  more 
atrocious  hope  that  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd  and  in  the 
tumult  of  the  festivities,  he  might  meet  him,  and  imbrue 
his  hands  in  his  blood,  made  his  heart  rebound  with  joy. 
When  Boscherino,  after  a  few  minutes,  had  gone,  he 
rose  from  the  place  where  he  was,  and  taking  from  his 
bosom  the  thin  and  sharp  stiletto  received  from  Don 
Miguel,  he  felt  its  blade  with  the  thumb,  gnashing  his 
teeth,  and  inflicting  an  imaginary  stab  :  and  then  he 
thought  of  the  manner  by  which  he  could  safely  go  to 
Barletta. 

The  Angelus  at  the  Monastery  had  been  tolled ;  after 
the  lapse  of  half  an  hour,  slowly  creeping  to  the  ground 
above,  he  opened  the  door,  and  looked  around  to  see  if 
the  shore  was  clear ;  but,  to  regain  the  main  land,  he  did 
not  dare  to  pass  under  the  tower,  nor  over  the  bridge  ; 
and  reflecting  that  the  tract  of  sea  between  the  island  and 
the  shore  —  of  about  a  hundred  yards  —  would  afford  to 
him  a  more  protected  passage,  he  went  down  the  steps, 
and  when  near  the  water,  undressed  himself,  made  a 
bundle  of  his  clothes,  which  he  fastened  on  his  head,  and 
then  swam  across  ;  in  a  few  minutes,  without  being  seen 
or  heard,  he  found  himself  on  the  sand  of  the  beach. 
It  was  almost  dark  ;  and  having  dried  himself  and 
dressed  in  a  hurry,  he  hastened  on  his  way  towards  the 
city. 

Diego  Garcia  di  Paredes  had  scarcely  settled  the 
quarrel  which  had  arisen  between  him  and  the  French- 
man out  of  the  wonderful  feat  he  had  performed  against 
the  bull,  when  he  remembered  that  Gonzalo  had  intrusted 
him  with  a  duty  of  great  importance,  and  hurried  away 
from  the  lists.     He  had  been  charged  with  the  superin- 


222  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

tendence  of  the  preparations  for  a  very  sumptuous  din- 
ner which  had  been  ordered  at  the  Castle.  As  there  was 
no  time  to  lose,  he  repaired  to  the  kitchen  at  once ;  and 
as  the  grudge  and  bad  humor  he  had  against  La  Motte 
was  still  souring  within  him,  he  appeared  before  the  cooks 
and  attendants,  who  were  bustling  in  the  kitchen,  like  one 
who  was  not  disposed  to  overlook  any  fault  or  mishap  of 
those  under  his  surveillance. 

"  And  so  !  "  he  said,  halting  on  the  threshold,  with  his 
arms  folded  on  his  breast,  "  will  everything  be  soon  in 
order?  Dinner  must  be  on  the  table  in  less  than  one 
hour." 

The  head-cook,  a  huge  lump  of  a  man,  portly  and 
broad-shouldered,  was  at  the  middle  table  spitting  veni- 
son, with  that  frowning  look  which  all  men  of  his  station 
in  life  put  on  in  like  circumstances,  no  matter  whether 
things  are  wrong  or  not.  But  he  had  an  additional  cause 
for  being  in  ill-humor.  The  fuel  had  all  been  consumed ; 
hence,  besides  the  fact  that  the  fires  could  not  be  kept  up 
at  the  same  degree,  and,  consequently,  the  meats  could 
not  be  properly  cooked,  there  was  still  greater  danger 
that  the  dinner  might  not  be  ready  at  the  appointed  hour, 
and  could  not  be  placed  on  the  table,  either  good  or  bad ; 
and  whoever  is  acquainted  with  the  feeling  of  pride 
which  sw^ells  the  breast  of  a  cook,  so  tender  in  a  point  of 
honor,  will  easily  imagine  how  harassed  was  the  mind  of 
the  man  to  whom  the  Spaniard  addressed  himself.  He 
would  not  have  honored  the  Pope  with  an  answer  in  that 
very  moment,  but  he  felt  bound  to  answer  Pai-edes. 

He  raised  his  head,  and  brandishing  the  spit  with  an 
air  of  vexation,  he  said  :  "  The  devil  has  his  horns  here, 
Signor  Don  Diego.  .  .  .  That  traitor  of  a  major-domo 
has  allowed  the  wood  to  give  out     I  have  sent  as  many 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  223 

of  these  poltroons  as  I  could  get  rid  of  to  obtain  wood 
wherever  they  might,  but  d —  them  all,  none  has  as  yet 
returned ; "  and  he  stopped,  giving  that  sort  of  sigh,  or 
rather  puff,  expressive  of  the  feelings  of  those  who  are 
disposed  to  give  up  entirely. 

"  Wood  or  no  wood,"  shouted  Paredes,  "  Voto  a  Dios, 
that  if  thou  art  not  ready  for  the  appointed  hour,  .  .  . 
majadero,  harto  de  ajos  .  .  . ;"  and  he  went  on  spinning 
a  whole  thread  of  Spanish  imprecations,  addressed  to  the 
cook,  who  lost  all  his  forbearance,  and  replied  :  — 

"  0  Eccellenza  !  tell  me  how  I  can  cook  a  dinner  with- 
out fire.  .  .  ." 

Diego  Garcia  was  not  of  those  strong-headed  men  who 
will  browbeat  a  weaker  man  because  he  happens  to  be 
on  the  side  of  right ;  hence  the  answer  of  the  cook  at 
first  made  him  more  angry ;  but  then  seeing  that  he  was 
not  altogether  wrong,  he  said  :  — 

"  And  where  has  this  thief  of  a  major-domo  ab- 
sconded ?  "  and  not  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  turned  his 
shoulders  on  the  cook,  went  up  to  the  court-yard  again, 
and  thundered  :  —  "  Izquierdo,  Izquierdo,  mcddito  de 
Dios!  ..." 

Izquierdo  had  run  to  the  nearest  wood-house,  and 
with  the  help  of  the  kitchen-waiters,  having  laden  some 
puny  donkeys,  he  was  urging  them  on  with  the  tune  of 
heavy  blows,  and  was  entering  the  court-yard  when  he 
heard  the  voice  that  called  him ;  he  doubled  the  blows 
on  their  backs  to  make  it  appear  that  the  poor  asses 
were  to  be  blamed,  at  least  in  part,  for  the  delay; 
and  heaven  only  knows  what  they  should  be  blamed 
for! 

As  he  came  near  Paredes  he  began  to  apologize  ;  but 
the  latter  broke  him  short,  — 


224  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

"  Hurry,  —  quick,  —  less  talk,  —  down  with  the  wood, 
or  I'll  measure  it  by  the  length  of  your  back." 

The  way  from  the  court-yard  to  the  kitchen  was  as 
follows :  —  After  ascending  three  steps,  a  narrow  and 
dark  passage  led  to  a  smaller  yard,  in  the  centre  of 
which  was  an  open  space,  flanked  by  a  low  wall ;  from 
the  bottom  of  this,  winding  stairs  led  to  the  entrance  to 
the  kitchen,  Garcia  was  stamping  his  foot  in  great  im- 
patience, seeing  how  long  it  would  take  the  knaves  to 
carry  the  wood  in  their  arms.  Thinking  that  there 
would  be  far  too  much  delay  in  the  operation,  he  be- 
came restless,  and  stooping  under  the  belly  of  one  of 
those  animals,  he  uplifted  it  with  its  burden,  and  taking 
hold  of  the  hind  and  fore-feet  as  if  they  had  belonged 
to  a  lamb,  he  carried  it  to  the  edge  of  the  low  wall 
and  turned  it  over  in  a  bundle,  the  donkey  falling 
on  top  of  the  load,  heels  over  head  ;  and  with  the 
same  fury,  taking  hold  ofi  the  second  and  third,  he  re- 
peated the  same  game ;  so  that  in  that  hole,  not  very 
large,  could  be  seen,  all  thrown  in  a  heap,  a  mass  of 
wood  and  fagots,  with  snouts,  ears,  and  legs  of  asses, 
bruised  and  scarred,  cutting  most  ludicrous  antics ;  and 
the  waiters,  frightened  out  of  their  wits,  endeavoring  to 
free  them,  pick  up  the  wood  and  throw  it  in  the  kitchen. 
The  terror  which  Garcia  had  inspired  was  so  great  that 
even  the  master-cook  came  out  and  gave  them  help, 
now  and  then  cautiously  looking  up  for  fear  that  the 
shower  of  donkeys  should  still  continue,  and  anxious  to 
escape  from  it.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the  ovens 
were  cracking  with  the  addition  of  fuel,  and  the  impulse 
which  Paredes  had  given  by  that  summary  argument, 
had  been  so  powerful  that  every  man  did  the  work  of 
three.     As  he  became  satisfied  that  everything  was  in  a 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  225 

fair  way,  shaking  the  dust  off  his  clothes,  and  still  grum- 
bling, he  moved  towards  home  to  dress  himself.  In  the 
yard,  he  met  the  company  just  returning  from  the  lists. 
Gonzalo,  the  Duke  of  Nemours,  the  ladies,  and  the 
barons  had  arrived  in  time  to  see  the  last  of  the  donkeys 
on  the  shoulders  of  Diego  Garcia,  and  hearing  what  had 
happened,  with  great  merriment  and  many  jokes,  they 
made  way  for  the  Spanish  baron,  and  entering  the  halls, 
they  loitered  about,  waiting  for  the  dinner  hour. 

The  banquet  was  to  be  served  in  the  hall  which  was 
used  for  a  drawing-room  to  Gonzalo's  quarters.  It  was 
about  one  hundred  feet  long  ;  and  in  it  a  large  table 
was  laid,  in  the  form  of  a  horseshoe,  which  could  seat 
about  three  hundred  guests.  At  the  upper  part  of  the 
hall,  at  the  farthest  point  from  the  door,  and  at  the  head 
of  the  table,  were  placed  four  large,  high-backed  chairs, 
covered  with  velvet,  and  ornamented  with  galloons  of 
gold,  destined  for  the  Duke  of  Nemours,  Gonzalo,  Donna 
Elvira,  and  Vittoria  Colonna.  Over  their  heads  were 
hung  from  the  walls  the  gonfalons  of  Spain,  the  banners 
of  the  Colonnas,  and  the  pennants  of  the  army,  —  all 
admirably  interwoven  with  trophies,  composed  of  the 
costliest  and  most  brilliant  armor,  with  gaudy  plumes 
surmounting  the  helmets,  with  so  many  ornaments,  and 
so  much  jewelry,  that  there  never  was  a  more  splendid 
sight.  From  holes  left  on  the  spacious  table  at  equal 
distances,  emerged  orange  trees,  myrtles  and  young  palm- 
trees,  all  covered  with  blossoms  and  fruits ;  while  jets  of 
water,  clear  and  cool,  spouting  from  under  them,  fell 
into  silver  basins,  wherein  swam  fish  of  a  hundred  colors. 
Little  birds,  tied  by  invisible  hoi'sehairs,  frisked  on 
the  branches ;  and  being  domesticated  and  reared  in 
cages,  warbled  their  lively  songs,  without  being  afraid  of 

10* 


226  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

the  company  or  of  the  noise.  An  immense  sideboard, 
behind  the  place  reserved  for  the  noblest  of  the  guests, 
was  laden  with  vases  of  silver,  and  gilt  plate,  wrought 
with  beautiful  reliefs  of  arabesque  design  ;  and  before  it, 
the  steward  sat  on  a  high  stool,  with  his  ebony  wand, 
beckoning  to  servants  and  waiters.  In  the  centre  of  the 
hall  were  placed  two  large  ewers  of  bronze,  filled  with 
water  for  the  purpose  of  washing  or  rinsing,  and  were 
of  that  style  we  see  painted  by  Paolo  Veronese,  in  his 
suppers  ;  within  them  decanters  of  Spanish  and  Sicilian 
wines  were  kept  to  cool.  On  the  two  sides  of  the  hall, 
near  the  walls,  were  erected  platforms  about  ten  feet 
from  the  ground,  which  were  occupied  by  the  musicians. 
Owing  to  the  diligence  of  Diego  Garcia  and  of  the 
cook,  shortly  after  mid-day  the  steward  could  enter  the 
hall  where  the  company  was  waiting,  and,  attended  by 
fifty  waiters  dressed  in  russet  and  yellow,  offer  ewers 
and  towels  to  wash  their  hands ;  and  it  was  announced 
that  dinner  was  ready.  The  Duke  of  Nemours  in  the 
radiant  beauty  of  his  youth,  and  health,  with  that  graceful 
address  which  so  exclusively  belongs  to  the  French  na- 
tion, offered  to  Lady  Elvira  his  hand,  to  lead  her  to  her 
place.  Oh !  for  the  man  who  would  have  then  told 
this  young  prince,  who  seemed  destined  for  a  future  of 
great  deeds  and  of  glory,  that  within  a  few  days  those 
eyes  so  brilliant,  those  limbs  so  gracefully  proportioned, 
would  be  stiff  and  cold,  laid  out  on  a  poor  bier  in  the 
small  church  of  Barletta  ;  *  and  that  a  passing  office  of 

*  "  1503,  April  28.  At  the  battle  of  Cerignola,  a  shot  from  one  of 
the  Spanish  arquebusiers  took  effect  on  the  unfortunate  young  no- 
bleman, and  he  fell  mortally  wounded  from  his  saddle. 

..."  Gonzalo  was  affected  even  to  tears  at  beholding  the  muti- 
lated remains  of  his  j'oung  and  gallant  adversarj',  who,  whatever 
judgment  may  be  formed  of  his  capacity  as  a  leader,  was  allowed  to 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  227 

compassion  from  Gronzalo,  would  be  the  last  expression 
of  feeling  he  would  raise  in  a  human  heart !  .  .  .  . 

Gonzalo  took  his  seat  between  Vittoria  Colonna  and 
the  Duke,  beckoning  to  his  daughter  to  sit  at  the  right 
of  the  latter,  with  Fieraraosca  on  her  side  ;  and  the 
banquet  commenced.  Ettore's  manners  towards  Lady 
Elvira  were  marked  by  so  much  courtesy  during  the 
whole  day,  that  the  Spanish  maiden,  whose  heart  was 
very  susceptible,  could  not  help  being  fascinated  by 
them ;  and  much  more  so  as  she  heard  from  every  lip 
the  praises  of  him  who  thus  behaved  towards  her.  Seat- 
ed near  each  other  at  table,  they  continued  their  conver- 
sation, full  of  merriment;  but  the  countenance  of  the 
Italian  by  degrees  became  veiled,  as  it  were,  by  a  cloud ; 
his  answers  grew  less  eax'nest ;  at  last  they  showed  that 
he  did  not  understand  what  was  said  to  him.  Lady  Elvira 
glanced  at  him  with  a  furtive  look,  and  with  an  expres- 
sion of  doubt  mixed  with  some  impatience;  observing 
that  he  grew  pale,  and  that,  lowering  his  eyes,  he  seemed 
lost  in  suspense,  she  almost  persuaded  herself  that  she 
was  the  cause  of  the  change.  This  thought  rendered  her 
more  indulgent ;  and  she  kept  silent  too.  They  both 
remained  thus  for  some  time,  while  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany were  in  a  high  glee,  and  the  noise  was  great  all 
around.  Elvira,  however,  flattered  herself  too  much ; 
the  sadness  of  Fieramosca  arose  from  a  far  different 
source,  for  it  was  the  effect  of  fortuitous  circumstances. 
From  the  place  where  he  sai  he  could  see  through  the 
two  main  windows  of  the  hall ;  they  were  parted  in  the 

have  all  the  qualities  which  belong  to  a  true  knight  .  .  .  Gonzalo 
ordered  his  remains  to  be  conveyed  to  Barletta,  where  they  were  laid 
in  the  cemetery  of  the  convent  of  St.  Francis." — PrescoWs  Ftrd.  and 
hab.  ch.  xii. 


228  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

middle  by  two  slender  Gothic  columns,  and  had  been  left 
wide  open  to  allow  a  free  ventilation  of  the  sea-breeze 
through  the  hall,  the  day  being  exceedingly  warm.  He 
could  see  the  whole  expanse  of  the  waters,  and  emerging 
from  them  Mount  Gargano,  dressed  in  that  beautiful  sky- 
colored  green  generally  reflected  by  the  mountain  in  a 
pure  and  serene  Italian  noon.  Half  way  between  the 
mountain  and  the  town  arose  the  little  island  and  the 
Monastery  of  Sant'  Orsola ;  and  even  the  piazza  of  Gin- 
evra,  shaded  by  its  vine  tree,  could  be  discerned  like  a 
dark  speck  on  the  reddish  fa9ade  of  the  guests'  quarters. 
On  this  foreground,  so  solemn  and  so  charming,  the  dark 
form  of  Graiano  rested  in  bold  relief,  having  his  place 
between  the  window  and  Ettore's  seat. 

That  sky  rendered  the  color  of  his  complexion  more 
fiery  and  red,  and  added  coarseness  to  the  unmeaning 
expression  of  his  countenance.  The  thought  of  what 
sort  of  a  man  he  had  before  him,  made  Fieramosca's 
blood  boil  with  rage.  However,  it  was  happy  for  him 
not  to  know  in  what  painful  state  Ginevra  was  at  that 
very  hour  !  At  that  moment  she  had  learned  from  Gen- 
naro  that  Graiano  was  in  Barletta,  and  she  was  stag- 
gering into  the  chapel  to  take  her  formal  resolution  to 
abandon  the  place  forever. 

In  the  uproar  of  so  large  a  banquet,  little  or  no  atten- 
tion was  paid  to  Ettore  and  the  Lady  Elvira ;  but  Vit- 
toria  Colonna,  who  had  already  some  suspicions,  noticing 
the  change  in  the  countenance  of  the  two  young  friends, 
and  apprehending  that  some  conversation  of  more  close 
import  might  have  taken  place,  held  her  mind  in  sus- 
pense, and  her  eyes  on  the  alert,  watching  the  actions 
of  the  knight  and  of  his  fair  companion,  for  whom  she 
could  not  help  feeling  greatly  alarmed.     Meanwhile,  the 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  229 

banquet  was  progressing,  and  the  tables  groaned  under 
that  quality  and  variety  of  good  cheer  which  was  so 
abundantly  served  up  in  those  old  times.  The  culinary 
art  is  certainly  a  difficult  one  in  our  own  days  ;  but  it 
was  much  more  so  then  ;  for  a  cook,  on  occasions  like  this, 
was  expected  to  perform  wonders,  such  as  our  cooks 
would  not  even  dream  of.  Not  only  the  palate  was  to 
be  pleased  with  every  dish,  but  the  eye  was  also  to  be 
amused.  A  large  peacock,  with  the  rich  and  varied 
colors  of  its  spreading  tail,  stood  before  Gonzalo  ;  it  had 
been  prepared  without  taking  any  of  the  plumes  off,  and 
it  was  done  so  skilfully  that  it  seemed  to  be  alive.  Fowls 
of  smaller  size  surrounded  the  noble  bird,  and  had  their 
heads  turned  upwards  gazing  at  it ;  they  were  all  stuffed 
with  spices  and  flavor.  A  quantity  of  pastry  and  pies 
of  enormous  height  was  placed  at  different  places  on 
the  tables ;  and  at  a  given  signal  from  the  steward's 
truncheon,  all  the  covers  were  uplifted,  as  if  by  magic, 
and  from  the  centre  of  the  pies  arose  as  many  dwarfs, 
appearing  from  their  breasts  upwards,  dressed  in  the 
most  ludicrous  attire,  with  silver  spoons  distributing 
around  the  contents  of  the  pastry,  while  their  left  hands 
scattered  flowers  over  the  guests.  The  confectionery 
dishes  were  framed  either  in  the  shape  of  low  mounds, 
on  the  top  of  which  stood  plants,  laden  with  candied 
fruits  ;  or  in  that  of  small  lakes  of  jellies,  on  which  little 
barks,  made  of  sugar,  and  completely  rigged,  had  been 
set  adrift,  laden  with  a  tempting  freight  of  sugar-plums, 
and  other  such  knick-knacks.  Others  represented  an 
Alpine  mountain,  with  a  volcano  on  its  top ;  and  the 
vapor  issuing  was  a  compound  of  most  delicious  fragrance. 
The  mountain  being  opened,  the  guests  found. chestnuts 
and    other  fruits   slowly   roasting  on   the  gentle   flames 


230  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

of  aquardente.  Among  the  great  variety  of  wild  meats 
there  was  a  small  boar,  with  the  skin  well  preserved ; 
and  there  it  stood  with  affrighted  appearance,  in  the 
midst  of  a  band  of  hunters,  made  of  pastry,  who  assailed 
him  with  their  spears.  A  blow  from  the  knife  showed 
to  the  company  that  it  was  deliciously  cooked.  The 
huntei's  shared  the  fate  of  their  prey,  being  quartered 
and  distributed,  with  slices  of  the  venison,  on  the  guests' 
plates.  When  the  banquet  was  drawing  to  a  close,  four 
pages,  in  red  and  yellow  checks,  entered  the  hall,  mount- 
ed on  four  white  horses,  and  supporting  an  immense 
platter,  on  which  lay  a  huge  long  tunny,  which  they 
placed  before  Gonzalo,  amidst  the  acclamations  of  all, 
admiring  the  size  of  the  fish,  and  the  manner  in  which  it 
had  been  prepared.  It  carried  on  its  back  the  figure  of 
a  naked  youth,  with  lyre  in  hand,  made  to  represent 
Arion  of  Methymna.  Gonzalo  presented  a  knife  to  the 
Duke  of  Nemours,  with  a  courteous  request  that  he 
would  open  the  mouth  of  the  fish. 

The  Duke  did  so,  and  out  came  many  doves,  that 
went  flying  around  the  hall,  as  they  were  liberated  from 
their  prison.  This  joke  took  all  by  surprise,  and  was 
received  with  shouts  ;  but  as  the  birds  alighted  here  and 
there,  the  guests  perceived  some  jewel  and  a  small  card, 
with  a  name  on  it,  hanging  from  the  neck  of  each. 

The  company  at  once  perceived  that  the  Captain  of 
Spain  had  contrived  that  amusing  way  for  the  purpose 
of  presenting  his  guests  with  tokens  of  his  kindness; 
and  it  was  an  exciting  sight  to  see  the  confusion  into 
which  they  were  thrown,  every  one  endeavoring  to  catch 
a  dove ;  but  when  one  was  secured,  the  name  was  read 
and  the  dove  and  token  were  presented  to  the  person  to 
whom  they  belonged. 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  231 

Fanfulla  of  course  joined  in  the  chase.  A  clove  was 
flying  by  with  the  Lady  Hfvira's  name  on  the  little 
paper,  and  he  was  enabled  to  read  it.  Being  exceed- 
ingly smitten  with  the  beauty  of  the  lady,  he  took  it  into 
his  head  to  secure  the  prize,  and  enjoy  the  pleasure  of 
presenting  it.  So,  watching  the  bird,  and  being  endowed 
with  great  agility,  he  managed  so  fortunately  as  to  take 
the  dove ;  and  opening  his  way  through  the  crowd,  bent 
one  knee  before  the  Lady  Elvira,  and  offering  the  bird, 
he  called  her  attention  to  the  brooch  of  very  large  and 
most  beautiful  diamonds,  which  was  hanging  from  its 
neck. 

The  Lady  Elvira,  with  a  gracious  smile,  accepted 
the  dove,  and  bringing  it  near  her  cheek  to  caress  it, 
the  frightened  bird  flapped  its  wings  so  as  to  discom- 
pose the  blond  hair  which  fell  in  ringlets  over  the 
snow-like  face  of  the  maiden,  tinged  with  an  incarnate 
color  by  the  mishap.  While  she  was  endeavoring  to 
detach  the  jewel  from  the  dove's  neck,  Fanfulla  rose, 
and  said :  — 

"  I  believe  there  are  no  richer  diamonds  than  these  in 
the  world ;  but,  my  Lady,  to  place  them  by  your  eyes 
will  only  dishonor  them." 

A  smile  of  complacency  was  the  reward  Fanfulla  re- 
ceived for  his  courteous  address. 

Some  of  my  readers,  accustomed  perhaps  to  the  for- 
mal restraints  which  modern  civilization  has  put  on  every 
kind  of  social  intercourse,  will  think,  within  himself,  that 
this  compliment  was  rather  double  distilled.  Let  him, 
therefore,  reflect,  that  even  for  a  man  of  arms  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  for  a  hair-brained  fellow  like  that 
youth  of  Lodi,  it  was  certainly  going  too  far ;  but  what- 
ever I  may  say  in  his  excuse,  the  best  apology  for  him  is 


232  ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA. 

that  the  daughter  of  Gonzalo  thought  he  had  spoken 
only  what  was  elegant  and  true. 

But  Fanfulla  felt  envy  and  spite  when  the  Lady  El- 
vira, after  having  very  closely  examined  and  admired 
the  clasp,  turned  to  Fieramosca,  and  placing  a  large  pin 
of  gold  in  his  hand,  requested  him  to  fasten  it  on  her 
waist.  Vittoria  Colonna,  who  was  near  by,  gravely  ad- 
vanced to  perform  that  office  with  her  own  hands ;  and 
Ettore,  feeling  annoyed  at  the  indiscretion  of  the  request 
of  the  Lady  Elvira,  was  in  the  act  of  returning  the  pin ; 
but  Elvira,  who  was  whimsical  and  testy,  like  all  children 
who  have  always  had  over-indulgent  parents,  interposed, 
and  spoke  to  Fieramosca,  with  an  air  which  ill  concealed 
her  vexation,  thus  :  — 

"  Are  you  so  much  accustomed  to  wield  the  sword  that 
you  disdain  to  hold  a  pin  in  your  hands  for  even  one 
moment  ?  "  The  Italian  had  to  comply.  Vittoria  Colon- 
na turned  away,  plainly  showing  in  her  handsome  and 
noble  countenance  how  far  she  would  be  from  employing 
any  of  these  devices ;  and  Fanfulla,  throwing  a  glance  at 
Fieramosca,  said :  — 

"  Thou  art  bom  in  luck ;  others  sow  and  thou  reapest ; " 
and  went  away  whistling  an  air,  as  if  he  were  alone  in 
the  streets,  and  not  in  the  midst  of  such  company. 

But  Gonzalo's  gifts  were  not  all  reserved  only  for  the 
ladies ;  he  had  provided  for  the  guests  from  the  French 
camp ;  and  the  Duke  of  Nemours,  as  well  as  his  barons, 
received  costly  presents  of  rings,  woven  pieces  of  golden 
wire  as  ornaments  for  their  caps,  and  other  articles. 
The  great  Captain  had  a  good  reason  for  so  much  dis- 
play ;  he  wished  to  make  the  French  understand  that  not 
only  he  had  plenty  to  provide  his  troops  with,  but  he  had 
even  a  surplus  to  spend  in  gallant  entertainments. 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  233 

The  episode  of  the  doves  was  ended ;  and  every  one 
regaining  his  place,  was  preparing  for  the  toasts,  the  time 
for  them  drawing  near. 

The  Duke  of  Nemours,  following  the  French  custom, 
arose,  and  filling  the  glass,  addressed  the  Lady  Elvira, 
and  begged  of  her  to  hold  him,  thenceforward,  for  her 
knight,  save  his  allegiance  to  the  Re  Cristianissimo. 
The  damsel  accepted  the  offer,  and  answered  with  much 
courtesy.  After  a  mutual  and  prolonged  pledging  of 
each  other  in  the  cup,  and  quaffing  of  goblets  to  the 
health  of  one  another,  Gonzalo  rose  from  the  table,  in 
which  movement  all  followed  him,  and  repaired  to  a  bal- 
cony looking  over  the  sea,  to  spend  in  genial  intercourse 
the  few  hours  which  remained  before  the  close  of  that 
day. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

In  every  fortress  of  the  olden  times,  a  large  hall  was 
always  built  on  the  ground-floor,  to  serve  for  a  place  of 
resort  where  the  men-at-arms  would  gather  together. 
In  the  haU  which  had  been  built  for  this  purpose,  in  the 
citadel  of  Barletta,  a  theatre,  somewhat  of  the  same  kind 
as  those  built  now-a-days,  was  temporarily  erected  for 
the  day  to  which  our  story  refers ;  it  was  not  very  unlike 
those  which  are  seen  in  our  time,  with  the  only  differ- 
ence that  with  us  the  curtain  is  generally  hoisted  up,  while 
with  them  it  was  lowered  down,  and  let  fall  on  the  place 
where  musicians  now  sit.  They  had  secured  the  services 
of  an  itinerant  troupe,  from  one  of  the  neighboring  towns 
on  the  sea-shore.  The  company  had  been  performing  at 
Venice  during  the  carnival,  and  they  were  now  going 
from  place  to  place,  giving  dramas  and  comedies  on  their 
way  to  Naples  for  the  festivals  of  San  Gennaro,  and  to 
Palermo  for  those  of  Santa  Rosalia.  Being  engaged  to 
appear  on  this  occasion  before  an  audience  so  select,  the 
troupe  had  taken  great  pains  to  have  every  thing  ready  in 
the  best  style.  It  was  scarcely  night,  when  the  spectators 
were  all  seated,  and  the  signal  was  given  to  begin  the 
performance.  A  clumsy  canvas,  which  served  the  pur- 
pose of  a  curtain,  having  been  lowered,  the  spectators 
saw  a  platform,  on  one  >:ide  of  which  was  erected  a  por- 
tico ornamented  with  statues  and  columns,  and  appeared 
to  be  the  entrance  into  a  court ;  and  on  the  entablature 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  235 

was  written  in  letters  of  gold,  "  land  op  babtlon." 
There  sat  on  a  throne,  surrounded  by  his  magnates,  a 
king  with  a  golden  sceptre,  dressed  in  oriental  style, 
wearing  an  immense  turban  covered  with  jewels,  and 
surmounted  by  a  crown ;  the  centre  of  the  stage  was 
intended  to  represent  a  sea-shore ;  and  on  the  opposite 
side  appeared  a  cavern,  opening  under  the  rock  of  an 
Alpine  mountain  crowded  with  trees  and  crags,  and  from 
its  entrance  a  dragon  issuing  fi'om  time  to  time,  looking 
as  if  he  was  guarding  a  goat's  fleece  with  golden  hair 
wonderfully  shining  that  hung  from  a  tree  near  by. 

A  woman,  tall,  stout,  and  of  handsome  features,  sat  by 
the  king  on  a  lower  throne ;  she  had  on  a  dress  of  red 
satin,  with  a  trail  six  feet  long,  and  on  her  shoulders  a 
large  cape  of  black  velvet,  after  the  French  fashion ;  at 
her  side,  a  scythe  took  the  place  of  a  scimitar,  and  she 
held  in  her  hand  a  book  and  a  wand.     It  was  Medea. 

In  a  few  moments  a  vessel  came  up  to  the  shore,  and 
a  crowd  of  young  men,  in  military  dress,  were  landed ; 
one  of  them,  exceedingly  handsome,  was  covered  all  over 
with  steel  and  coat-of-mail,  except  the  head.  He  was 
Jason  ;  two  young  Moors  carried  his  helmet  and  buckler. 

He  advanced,  and  having  made  a  deep  obeisance  to 
the  king,  he  began  an  address  in  rhymed  verses,  which 
did  not  sound  very  harmonious  to  Vittoria  Colonna,  and, 
I  think,  will  not  much  please  my  readers.  He  began 
thus :  — 

Di  Cristinnita  veiiemo, 
Argonaut!  se  chiamemo, 
Al  Soldan  di  Babilona, 
Che  Dlo  salvi  sua  corona. 

We  come  from  Christendom, 
We  are  called  Argonauts, 
We  come  to  the  Sultan  of  Babylon, 
May  God  preserve  his  crown. 


236  ETTOEE   FIERAMOSCA. 

And  he  went  on  in  this  strain,  telling  how  they  had  come 
to  take  away  the  golden  fleece.  The  king  ^etes,  having 
held  counsel  with  his  courtiers,  and  with  his  daughter, 
replied  that  he  was  pleased  with  their  enterprise,  and  left 
Jason  alone  with  Medea. 

Jason  immediately  began  to  make  love  to  the  damsel, 
and  begged  her  aid,  promising  that  he  would  bring  her 
to  Christendom,  where  he  would  marry  her,  and  make 
a  great  queen  of  her.  Medea  very  readily  yielded,  and 
instructed  him  how  to  use  certain  incantations,  with 
which  it  would  be  easy  to  stupefy  the  dragon  ;  caution- 
ing him,  however,  not  to  use  the  name  of  Saints,  or 
make  the  sign  of  the  cross,  as  in  that  case  the  charms 
would  become  powerless.  She  then  left  him.  Jason, 
turning  to  his  companions,  protested  that  it  was  not  fair 
and  just  for  a  good  knight  to  conquer  the  dragon  with 
sorceries,  and  therefore  he  would  try  at  first  to  overcome 
it  with  his  arms  ;  and  brandishing  the  sword,  and  covering 
himself  with  the  shield,  which  one  of  the  squires  handed 
to  him,  while  another  clasped  his  helmet,  he  advanced 
to  attack  the  dragon.  But  the  savage  beast,  rushing 
from  the  cavern  and  belching  flames,  defended  itself  so 
well,  that  Jason  had  to  give  it  up  after  a  contest  of  a  few 
minutes.  His  brothers  in  arms,  with  much  earnestness, 
conjured  him  to  employ  the  incantations,  by  which  he 
easily  succeeded  in  stupefying  the  beast,  and  took  the 
fleece  down  without  much  ado.  This  being  accomplished, 
Medea  reappeared,  urging  them  to  go  on  board  the 
vessel  with  her.  On  that,  a  great  noise  arose  from  the 
land ;  it  was  the  sound  of  trumpets,  and  timbrels,  clari- 
ons, and  other  Moorish  instruments.  During  a  pause 
in  the  music,  a  young  man  on  horseback,  dressed  in 
•  Saracenic  style,  rushed  upon  the  shoi-e,  and  challenged 


ETTORH   FIERAMOSOA.  2'67 

Jason,  who  took  up  the  gauntlet,  and  with  a  few  masterly 
blows  laid  him  slain  on  the  ground.  But  when  he  was 
repairing  to  his  ship,  ^etes  made  his  appearance,  sur- 
rounded by  his  barons,  and  seeing  his  daughter  in  the 
vessel  with  sails  set,  and  his  son  Absyrtus  murdered, 
ordered  his  men  to  prevent  the  flight  of  the  Argonauts. 
Then  Medea  began  her  incantations  ;  the  air  was  en- 
veloped in  darkness,  and  a  troop  of  men,  in  most  out- 
landish attire,  looking  like  demons,  running  to  and  fro 
with  blazing  torches,  set  fire  to  Babylon,  which  was  in- 
stantly consumed.  In  that  tumult,  the  king,  as  well  as 
all  his  barons,  were  carried  away  by  the  Argonauts,  who 
were  seen  in  the  distance  sailing  away  in  safety  with 
their  booty,  and  the  performance  was  over. 

If  any  of  our  readers  should  be  of  that  class  who 
forever  praise  the  art  and  mechanism  displayed  in  the 
modern  theatre,  I  wish  them  to  pause  a  moment,  and 
reflect  that  the  talent,  which  in  our  days  is  so  skilfully 
employed  to  draw  applause  from  the  spectators,  and 
which  generally  consists  in  arranging  matters  so  that  the 
whole  performance  must  necessarily  wind  up  with  a 
conflagration,  or  a  catastrophe,  with  Olympus  or  Ere- 
bus looming  at  a  distance,  —  does  not  entirely  belong  to 
our  age,  but  was  employed  in  the  management  of  the 
scenes,  and  was  highly  appreciated  by  the  public  of  the 
sixteenth  century. 

The  company  before  whom  this  performance  was  en- 
acted, although  composed  of  persons  not  devoid  of  educa- 
tion, was  satisfied,  or  at  least  appeared  to  be.  And  to 
tell  the  truth,  if  we  take  into  consideration  the  abilities 
of  those  players,  and  the  place  where  they  were  obliged 
to  perform,  they  achieved  even  more  than  could  be  reason- 
ably expected.     But  that  portion  of  the  guests,  that  were 


238  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

not  allowed  to  mingle  with  the  noblemen  and  the  knights, 
were  enjoying  another  spectacle  of  a  similar  nature,  got 
up  expressly  for  them  in  the  court-yard,  and  certainly  it 
was  far  more  appreciated  if  we  should  judge  from  the 
shouts  of  applause  which  rent  the  air. 

Some  Spanish  soldiers  had  obtained  leave  to  perform 
as  well  as  they  could  a  national  comedy  in  their  own 
language ;  for  this  purpose  they  had  set  apart  a  cor- 
ner of  the  yard,  and  therein  with  planks  and  curtains 
had  made  a  temporary  structure,  (they  called  it  a  thea- 
tre,) and  had  been  rehearsing  for  several  days,  every  one 
endeavoring  to  commit  to  metnory  and  personate  his 
part  in  the  best  manner.  They  had  succeeded  in  put- 
ting together  a  comedy  very  acceptable  to  the  Spaniards, 
called  Iais  Mocedades  del  Gid,  which  literally  means  the 
Tricks  of  the  Gid,  or  more  properly  his  youthful  capers  ; 
after  the  comedy,  if  there  was  time  left,  they  were  to 
perform  a  Saynete  by  way  of  petite  piece,  as  the  French 
call  it 

Both  the  drama  in  the  hall  of  the  castle,  and  the  com- 
edy in  the  court-yard,  were  commenced  at  the  same  time. 
A  large  concourse  of  people  crowded  before  the  stage 
erected  for  the  latter  performance :  squad-drillers,  offi- 
cers, soldiers,  townsmen,  and  people  from  the  suburbs, 
shopkeepers,  and  an  infinite  rabble.  The  aristocracy  of 
this  class  occupied  reserved  seats  near  the  platform,  and 
as  the  radii  of  this  crowd  reached  out  from  this  centre, 
the  ranks  were  swollen  by  individuals  of  lower  grades, 
and  of  meaner  appearance  ;  until,  at  the  outskirts,  there 
were  none  to  be  seen  but  ragamuffins  and  ragged  boys. 
Admittance  was  free  ;  hence,  no  end  to  the  concourse ; 
and  if  the  distance  prevented  many  from  enjoying  the 
amusement,  those  who  were  at  the  farthest  end,  by  way 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  239 

of  compensation,  shouted  and  hissed,  clapped  their  hands, 
and  encored  at  random,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  those 
nearer,  who  gave  vent  to  their  ill-repressed  vexation 
by  repeating  the  word  Zitto  (hush),  which,  was  heard 
from  one  side  or  another,  and  which,  instead  of  stilling 
the  noise,  added  new^  stimulus  to  the  vociferations. 

Amidst  that  motley  crowd,  so  absorbed  in  their  enjoy- 
ment, a  man  could  be  seen  hovering  around,  —  a  man  of 
abject  appearance  and  wretched  garments,  but  whose 
countenance  and  bearing  distinguished  hira  from  the  rest 
of  the  people.  His  restless  and  anxious  moving  to  and 
fro  indicated  that  some  motive  far  dilFerent  from  that  of 
seeking  pleasure  had  led  him  thither.  It  was  Pietraccio. 
He  had  come  to  the  Rock  for  the  purpose  of  killing 
Valentino,  and  to  warn  Fieramosca  of  the  danger  of 
Ginevi-a ;  but  finding  himself  in  the  midst  of  that  mul- 
titude, he  became  perplexed,  perceiving  how  difficult  it 
was  for  him  to  find  those  he  was  looking  for.  The 
reader,  perhaps,  will  be  astonished  to  find  an  assassin, 
for  whose  head  a  price  had  been  offered,  daring  to  come 
to  the  city  and  exposing  himself  to  the  danger  of  being 
discovered ;  and  certainly,  if  we  should  judge  from  the 
state  of  society  in  our  days,  nothing  would  have  been 
more  dangerous  than  to  place  himself  within  the  power 
of  gendarmes  who  were  watching  over  the  security  of 
the  public.  But  such  dangers  did  not  encompass  a  man 
like  Pietraccio  in  those  times  ;  and  on  that  occasion,  when 
the  excitement  of  the  people  and  the  anxiety  of  his  own 
mind,  consequent  on  the  murder  of  the  Podesta,  had 
died  away,  he  might  feel  as  perfectly  secure  in  Barletta, 
(especially  as  it  was  night,)  as  if  he  had  been  among 
his  comrades  in  the  bushes.  But  no  matter  how  perilous 
was  the  undertaking  in  which  he  had  embarked,  he  is  too 


240  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

well  accustomed  to  get  out  of  difficulties,  he  is  thirsting 
for  vengeance,  and  he  will  find  the  way  to  surmount  all 
obstacles.  Let  us  leave  him  to  take  care  of  himself,  and 
go  back  to  the  principal  actors  of  our  history. 

It  was  very  near  two  o'clock  in  the  night,  when,  the 
performances  of  the  theatre  being  over,  the  company  had 
repaired  to  the  banquet  room,  which  by  that  time  had 
been  already  transformed  into  a  dancing  hall,  and  was 
illumined  by  wax  lights  arranged  all  around  on  large 
candelabra  hanging  from  the  walls,  and  on  chandeliers 
hanging  from  the  centre  of  the  ceiling.  The  musicians 
were  at  the  same  places  in  open  balconies,  at  one  third 
of  the  distance  between  the  floor  and  the  entablature. 
Besides  the  musicians,  who  occupied  one  side,  the  place 
was  crowded  with  persons  of  inferior  rank,  who  wished 
to  witness  a  spectacle  in  which  they  could  not  take  part. 

Gonzalo,  with  his  guest  and  the  ladies,  sat  on  a  dais 
raised  near  the  wall  on  the  side  where  the  banners  and 
standards  hung.  As  the  hall  became  filled,  the  Duke 
of  Nemours  rose,  and  opened  the  dance  with  the  Lady 
Elvira. 

When  they  had  regained  their  seats,  Fieramosca,  wish- 
ing to  show  his  courtesy  even  on  this  occasion,  advanced 
to  offer  his  hand  to  the  maiden,  protesting  however  his 
ignorance  of  the  art  of  dancing ;  she  accepted  the  offer 
with  marked  pleasure.  Then  other  couples  were  made ; 
and  Fanfulla,  among  the  rest,  being  unable  to  engage  the 
Lady  Elvira,  made  choice  of  the  one  whom  he  thought 
to  be  the  handsomest  woman  of  Barletta,  and  contrived 
to  place  himself  so  that,  in  the  contra-dance,  he  should 
find  himself  face  to  face  with  Ettore  and  his  partner. 
His  endeavors  to  watch  every  movement  of  the  Lady 
Elvira,  and  to   catch   all  the  beaux-mots  she  wafted  to 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  241 

Ettore,  must  have  had  a  souring  effect  on  his  heart ;  for 
the  excited  looks  of  the  Spanish  maiden  betrayed  too  well 
her  liking  for  Fieramosca.  The  flourishes  of  the  band, 
the  exercise,  the  repeated  grasping  of  the  hand,  and  the 
familiarity  which  dancing  allows  between  persons  who  in 
other  walks  of  life  would  demean  towards  one  another 
with  the  utmost  reserve,  had  created  in  the  daughter  of 
Gonzalo  an  excitement  of  imagination  which  she  could 
not  well  suppress.  Both  Ettore  and  Fanfulla  had  noticed 
il;  it  was  a  cause  of  pain  to  the  former,  and  of  jealousy 
to  the  latter.  Fanfulla  kept  up  an  incessant  fire,  torment- 
ing Fieramosca  either  with  broken  expressions  or  mali- 
cious glances.  Ettore  did  not  relish  sudi  jokes,  and  the 
half  serious,  half  melancholy  looks  with  which  he  received 
the  railleries  of  his  friend  were  interpreted  by  the  Lady 
Elvira  in  a  fashion  of  her  own,  very  far  from  their  real 
meaning. 

At  last  the  Lady  Elvira,  with  that  rash  imprudence 
which  was  so  prominent  a  feature  in  her  character,  tak- 
ing the  opportunity  of  an  instant  in  which  she  was  hold- 
ing Ettore  by  the  hand,  leaned  towards  him  and  whis- 
pered in  his  ear :  "  When  the  ball  is  over,  I  will  be  in 
the  balcony  over  the  sea ;  come  there,  I  wish  to  speak 
to  you." 

Ettore  was  painfully  surprised  at  these  words,  which 
only  portended  the  approach  of  a  serious  intrigue,  and 
hummed  a  kind  of  consent  with  a  nod  of  the  head  and 
a  slight  change  in  his  countenance,  but  gave  no  decisive 
answer.  Whether  it  was  from  want  of  precaution  when  the 
Lady  Elvira  whispered  those  words  in  Ettore's  ears,  or  be- 
cause Fanfulla  was  too  much  on  the  alert,  the  fact  is  that 
he  also  heard  those  ill-fated  words,  and  cursing  in  his  own 
heart  the  good  luck  which  was  all  on  the  side  of  Fiera- 
11 


242  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

mosca,  he   muttered  to    himself:  — "  can't  I  make   this 
giddy  girl  pay  for  it  ?  " 

Ettore  for  his  part  was  a  prey  to  contending  thoughts. 
He  did  not  feel  the  least  inclined  to  yield  to  the  charms  of 
the  handsome  Spaniard  ;  for  in  the  tirst  place  the  image 
of  Ginevra  was  too  deeply  graven  in  his  heart ;  and  then 
he  was  too  wise  a  man  to  think  for  a  moment  of  making 
sport  of  the  daughter  of  Gonzalo.  And  in  truth  with  those 
arts  she  could  never  reach  Ettore's  heart,  because  he  was 
not  one  of  those  men  who  ai-e  always  ready  to  gra^^p  ati 
opportunity  in  these  matters.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  he 
could  not  brook  the  idea  of  being  thought  uncourteous, 
unfeeling,  or  even  worse ;  as,  unfortunately,  it  is  one  of 
the  contradictions  of  the  world  to  brand  certain  acts  as 
bad,  and  at  the  same  time  to  give  the  name  of  fool  and 
coward  to  those  who  will  not  be  guilty  of  them.  During 
the  rest  of  the  dance  he  tortured  his  mind  to  contrive 
some  means  by  which  he  might  get  out  of  the  difficulty 
honorably ;  at  last  the  time  for  the  rendezvous  was  di-awing 
near,  he  made  up  his  mind  resolutely  that  he  would  not 
expose  himself  to  do  the  least  thing  which  might  wrong 
Ginevra.  And  reflecting  that  while  he  was  in  the  midst 
of  so  much  enjoyment,  she  was  in  a  lonely  Monastery  in 
the  midst  of  the  sea,  left  alone  by  everybody,  and  very 
probably  thinking  only  of  him,  his  heart  burned  with 
shame  that  he  should  have,  even  for  a  moment,  enter- 
tained a  regard  for  anything  else  above  her  love ;  there- 
fore, as  soon  as  he  had  concluded  his  dance  with  the 
Lady  Elvira,  anxious  to  hasten  away  from  the  hall,  he 
thought  to  offer  for  an  apology  one  of  those  headaches, 
which,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  were  as  admirable  an 
excuse  as  they  are  on  many  occasions  even  in  the  nine- 
teenth. 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  243 

The  young  gentlemen,  who  had  taken  part  in  the 
contra-dance,  following  the  custom  of  the  times,  for  the 
purpose  of  being  more  free  in  motion,  had  taken  off  the 
mantles  they  wore  on  the  left  shoulder  and  deposited 
them  all  together  in  a  room  adjoining  the  hall,  and  made 
their  appearance  in  doublets  and  tights,  which  generally 
were  of  white  satin.  Fanfulla  and  Ettore  were  both 
dressed  in  this  fashion,  and  their  height  as  well  as  their 
dress  made  them  appear  much  alike  ;  only  by  putting  on 
their  mantles,  a  difference  might  be  perceived ;  Fiera- 
mosca  wore  one  of  azure  color  embroidered  with  silver, 
Fanfulla's  was  vermilion. 

Ettore  met  Diego  Garcia,  and  requested  him  to  offer 
to  Gonzalo  and  his  daughter  his  regrets  because  of  a 
severe  headache  which  constrained  him  to  retire ;  and 
he  repaired  to  the  room  where  he  had  left  his  mantle. 
As  he  was  crossing  the  threshold,  the  crowd  having  given 
way  a  little,  he  had  no  one  close  to  his  person,  and  he 
felt  a  blow  on  his  shoulder  as  if  some  heavy  object  had 
fallen  from  above ;  looking  to  his  feet,  where  the  thing 
had  fallen  in  rebounding,  he  saw  a  bit  of  paper  in  which 
something  weighty  had  been  wrapped.  He  looked  up 
to  the  balcony  whence  it  seemed  to  have  fallen,  but  he 
discovered  no  person's  eye  looking  down  towards  him. 
He  was  going  forward ;  however,  he  stooped,  picked  up 
the  parcel,  and,  unfolding  it,  he  found  that  it  contained  a 
pebble  for  the  purpose  of  giving  it  weight,  that  it  might 
fall  to  the  intended  spot.  There  was  written  in  a  rude 
and  scarcely  readable  hand  :  —  "  The  Lady  Ginevra  will 
be  abducted  from  Sant'  Orsola  by  order  of  Duca  Valen- 
tino at  the  stroke  of  three  o'clock.  He  who  warns  you  will 
wait  for  you,  with  three  companions,  at  the  large  gate  of 
the  Castle,  and  he  will  have  a  javelin  in  his  hand." 


244  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

P^ttore's  frame  shivered  to  the  very  marrow,  and  the 
thrill  was  increased  by  remembering  that  the  clock  had 
already  struck  half-past  two.  There  was  no  time  to  lose. 
With  a  countenance  as  pale  as  that  of  the  man  who,  mor- 
tally wounded,  bounds  on  his  last  steps  and  falls  to  die, 
he  was  at  the  door  with  the  rapidity  of  the  lightning, 
then  down  the  stairs  at  a  ruinous  speed,  without  mantle 
or  cap,  to  the  greatest  amazement  of  all  who  saw  him, 
he  reached  the  place  of  rendezvous  with  such  a  fury 
that  he  had  to  hold  on  to  the  huge  iron  ring  of  the 
gate  to  stop  himself.  The  vault  of  the  entry  was  very 
dark ;  and,  while  panting  from  running  and  anxiety,  he 
looked  around.  The  man  with  the  javelin  in  hand,  left 
the  wall  against  which  he  had  ensconced  himself,  and 
advanced  towards  him. 

Many  had  observed  the  hurried  flight  of  Fieramosca, 
and  the  remarkable  change  of  his  countenance ;  but,  as 
they  heard  from  Diego  Garcia  the  cause  which  Ettore 
himself  had  given  for  his  going  away,  had  no  thought  of 
following  him.  But  Inigo  and  Brancaleone,  who  loved 
him  most  dearly,  were  not  so  easily  satisfied,  but  followed 
him,  and  although  they  could  not  keep  up  with  his  swift 
pace,  they  had  him  in  sight,  and  reached  the  gate  a  few 
moments  after  him. 

They  found  Fieramosca,  who,  having  hold  of  Pie- 
traccio,  burned  him  along,  saying :  —  "  let  us  go,  quick, 
quick."  —  He  saw  his  friends,  and  said  to  them  in 
great  haste  :  —  "if  you  are  my  friends,  come  along  and 
help  me  against  that  traitor  of  a  Valentino  ;  we'll  take  a 
boat,  we  are  seven,  we  shall  be  at  Sant'  Orsola  in  no 
time."  —  Brancaleone,  glancing  at  himself  and  companion, 
said :  —  "  whej-e  are  the  weapons  ?  "  In  fact,  none  of 
the  three  had  even  a  sword.     Fieramosca  was   i-aving. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  245 

stamping  the  ground,  and  with  his  hands  on  his  head, 
looked  like  a  crazj  creature.  Then  Brancaleone,  who,  on 
an  emergency  always  spoke  to  the  point,  and  had  plenty 
of  resources,  remarked  :  —  "  thou,  Ettore,  go  to  the  shore 
with  these  men,  get  boat  and  oars  ready,  and  wait  for 
us  ;  thou,  Inigo,  come  along  ; "  —  and  they  both  started 
on  a  run,  while  Fieramosca  cried  after  them,  — "  huiTy, 
hurry,  it  is  almost  three  o'clock  ;  "  Although  his  fi'iends 
understood  neither  the  sense  of  these  words,  nor  the 
motive  of  so  much  precipitation,  still,  being  satisfied 
thaf  it  must  have  been  something  of  very  great  impor- 
tance, they  rushed  into  the  armory  of  Colonna's  quarters, 
amd  snatching  from  the  walls  jacks,  helmets,  and  swords 
for  three  persons,  returned  with  the  same  speed,  and  over- 
took him  as  he  had  just  entered  the  boat.  They  then 
jumped  into  the  skiff  while  Inigo,  who  was  the  last,  with 
a  foot  on  shore,  pushed  it  off,  and  grasping  the  oars,  they 
bent  over  them  and  strained  them  fiercely  in  the  effort. 
Emerging  from  the  little  harbor  which  was  behind  the 
citadel,  they  had  to  pass  under  the  clock-tower  ;  as  they 
neared  the  spot,  they  heard  that  rumbling  of  the  wheels 
which  precedes  the  striking  of  the  hours.  The  unhappy 
Ettore  bent  his  body  down,  leaning  his  head  towards  the 
keel,  as  if  he  feared  lest  the  tower  should  then  fall  and 
crush  him.  After  a  few  seconds  the  large  bell  gave  the 
three  fatal  strokes,  and  the  deadened  sound  was  heard 
losing  itself  in  decreasing  vibrations,  faintly  repeated  by 
the  distant  echo. 

Before  we  narrate  the  result  of  the  voyage  of  our 
friends,  we  must  go  back  to  the  dancing  hall  for  a  few 
moments. 

FanfuUa,  who,  by  accident  as  well  as  by  cunning,  had 
gained  possession  of  the  Lady  Elvira's  secret,  had  deter- 


246  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

mined  to  make  it  turn  into  account,  but  did  not  know 
how  he  could  succeed  ;  but  when  he  saw  his  rival  hurry- 
ing away  from  the  place  without  cape  or  mantle,  a  very 
wild  thought  entered  into  his  head  ;  and  being  a  man  who 
never  paused  to  reflect  when  there  was  an  opportunity 
for  indulging  in  some  foolery,  no  matter  what  the  conse- 
quences might  be,  betook  himself  at  once  to  carry  his 
plan  into  effect. 

He  had  watched  the  daughter  of  Gonzalo,  and  had 
seen  her  going  out  to  the  balcony,  when  the  dance  was 
over.  It  was  evident  that  she  had  not  noticed  Ettote's 
departure.  The  wag  hastened  to  the  cloak-room,  where 
besides  his  own  cap,  there  was  none  left  but  that  of  Fiera- 
mosca ;  he  put  it  on  his  head  so  that  the  feathers  would 
shade  his  countenance,  and  threw  over  his  shoulders  the 
azure  mantle  of  his  friend ;  and  any  one  who  had  not  seen 
his  countenance,  would  certainly  have  taken  him  for  Fie- 
ramosca.  Being  thus  attired,  he  made  his  way  through 
the  crowd,  and  went  by  stealth  to  the  balcony,  which  had 
no  other  light  but  what  it  received  through  the  windows 
from  the  halls  of  the  palace.  Around  a  basin  perpetually 
filled  by  a  jet  of  water,  were  placed  many  large  vases  with 
orange  trees,  amidst  which  it  was  very  easy  to  be  con- 
cealed from  any  one  who  might  happen  to  come  out  of 
the  dancing  rooms.  When  Fanfulla  entered  the  balcony, 
haply,  there  was  no  person  but  the  Lady  Elvira,  whom 
he  saw  sitting  at  the  balustrade  over  the  sea,  resting  her 
elbow  upon  the  iron  rail,  and  supporting  her  head  with 
her  hand,  while  she  was  looking  up  to  the  sky. 

At  that  moment  the  moon  was  veiled  by  some  clouds 
driven  before  the  wind.  Fanfulla  feared,  unless  he  im- 
proved the  opportunity,  he  might  be  recognized  when  the 
sky  became  clear  ;  therefore,  with  a  very  soft  step,  he  ap- 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  247 

proached  the  Lady  Elvira,  who  did  not  perceive  him 
until  he  stood  by  her  side.  As  she  turned  to  look  at  him, 
Fanfulla  lowered  his  head  with  grace  and  address,  and, 
reverently  falling  on  one  knee  beside  her,  he  took  her 
hand  and  pressed  his  lips  upon  it ;  he  did  it  so  carefully 
that  he  concealed  his  face  entirely,  and  the  daughter  of 
Gonzalo  had  not  the  least  doubt  as  to  his  being  Fiera- 
mosca. 

She  made  a  motion  as  if  to  withdraw  her  hand,  but, 
as  is  often  the  case  on  such  occasions,  yielded  to  the 
easily  forgiven  force  which  detained  it.  Although  the 
disposition  of  the  Lady  Elvira  was  whimsical,  capricious 
and  testy,  we  must  believe  that  she  could  not  but  feel  a 
reproach  at  finding  herself  in  so  close  an  interview  with 
a  young  man,  and  that  she  actually  trembled  lest  she 
might  be  overtaken  in  that  situation  by  her  father,  and 
much  more  by  her  austere  friend. 

A  strong  breath  of  wind  blew  aside  the  cloud  that 
veiled  the  moon,  and  as  it  was  full,  it  threw  a  most 
vivid  light  over  the  whole  place,  and  illumined  the  glit- 
tering dress  of  Elvira  and  of  Fanfulla.  Perhaps  neither 
of  them  took  notice  of  it ;  but  a  piercing  cry,  ascending 
from  the  foot  of  the  balcony,  and  betraying  a  female 
voice,  made  them  start,  and  thinking  that  others  might 
be  attracted  by  it  from  the  dancing  hall,  they  hurriedly 
withdrew  by  different  ways  to  the  interior  rooms,  where 
those  who  had  heard  the  cry,  having  their  attention  en- 
gi'ossed  with  other  affairs,  did  not  pay  any  more  attention 
to  it.  The  first  cry  was  followed  by  a  second  one  more 
faint,  which,  dying  away  in  the  throat  of  her  who  uttered 
it,  was  overwhelmed  by  the  heavy  fall  of  a  human  body 
at  the  bottom  of  a  boat.  But  the  balcony  was  deserted ; 
in  the  palace  they  were  all  bent  on  enjoying  themselves ; 


248  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA 

no  person  looked  out  to  see  who  the  unfortunate  woman 
was  who  was  crying  for  help. 

While  these  events  were  happening  at  the  Rock,  the 
boat  which  carried  Fieramosca  and  his  companions,  pro- 
pelled by  seven  stout  men,  was  flying  over  the  waves 
towards  the  Monastery,  leaving  behind  a  long  wake  of 
foam  furrowing  the  sea.  Brancaleone,  seeing  that  Fiera- 
mosca was  only  bent  on  plying  the  oars  with  his  might 
and  main,  said  resolutely :  "  Now,  Ettore,  I  do  not 
know  where  you  are  carrying  us,  but  surely  this  does 
not  look  like  an  affair  of  small  importance,  and  if  we 
have  to  work  in  earnest,  these  harnesses  at  the  bottom  of 
the  boat  will  not  be  of  much  good  to  us."  At  these 
words,  they  began  to  put  on  their  armor,  one  by  one, 
taking  care  that  only  one  oar  was  left  idle  at  a  time. 
Having  girded  on  their  swords,  and  covered  their  heads 
with  light  helmets,  they  bent  on  their  oars  with  renewed 
vigor,  straining  their  eyes  over  the  sea  to  descry  the 
enemy,  should  he  approach. 

During  the  way,  Ettore,  in  disconnected  words,  in- 
formed his  friends  for  what  purpose  he  needed  their  as- 
sistance. Then  a  small  boat  hove  in  sight,  and  they  made 
for  it ;  but  when  they  came  near,  they  saw  it  occupied  by 
only  one  person,  slowly  paddling  towards  Barletta.  To 
lose  no  time,  they  again  steered  their  course  towards  the 
Monastery,  and  had  not  noticed  who  was  the  person  that 
occupied  the  boat.  Inigo  advised  that  they  should  ap- 
proach and  ask  for  information,  but  Ettore  would  not 
listen  to  it ;  the  appointed  hour  had  passed,  and  he  could 
hardly  hope  to  be  in  time. 

Had  he  followed  Inigo's  advice,  how  much  misfortune 
would  have  been  prevented  ! 

The  Monastery    loomed     up    as    they    approached. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  249 

Fieramosca  had  his  eyes  fixed  upon  it,  and  could  discern 
every  window,  but  no  lights.  Then  a  low,  long  boat, 
sweeping  over  the  waters  like  a  swallow,  suddenly  hove 
in  sight,  within  two  shots'  distance,  on  the  left  side. 
Ettore,  Inigo,  and  Brancaleone,  all  at  one  time,  and  with 
low  voices,  observed  :  —  There  they  are  ;  and  turning  the 
bow  towards  the  marauders,  they  redoubled  their  efforts  ; 
the  others,  perceiving  that  they  were  pursued,  tried  to 
escape,  and  pulled  for  their  lives ;  but  the  pursuers  felt 
their  vigor  trebled.  The  space  between  the  two  boats 
is  seen  to  diminish ;  the  parties  can  hear  each  other's 
conversation  ;  and  Fieramosca,  stretching  himself  up  as 
much  as  he  could  without  stopping  from  plying  the  oar, 
already  descries  a  woman  lying  at  the  stern,  watched  by 
two  men,  and  cries  — Traitors ! — with  a  roar  that  reechoed 
within  the  walls  of  the  Monastery. 

—  Hurry,  —  hurry,  —  pull  away,  —  pull,  —  was  at 
once  repeated  by  many  husky  voices  from  closed  teeth ; 
and  their  prow  was  touching  the  enemy's  boat.  "With 
the  rapidity  of  the  lightning,  Ettore  drops  the  oar,  and 
with  uplifted  sword  he  throws  himself  among  the  ruffians 
who  stood  ready  to  receive  him  at  the  point  of  their 
weapons.  The  effort  he  made  in  leaping  from  one  boat 
to  the  other  sent  his  own  craft  backward,  and  thus  he 
found  himself  alone  to  receive  the  shock  of  the  blows  which 
the  enemy  aimed  at  his  head  and  breast,  and  from  which 
he  was  protected  by  the  headpiece  and  the  breastplate ; 
but  his  companions,  seeing  his  danger,  were  soon  to  the  res- 
cue. Pietraccio,  who  was  the  nearest,  was  also  the  next  one 
to  jump  into  the  boat,  but  he  scarcely  found  himself  where 
he  thought  he  would  meet  Valentino,  when  a  blow  from 
an  oar  knocked  him  down  senseless.  Inigo  and  Branca- 
leone stood  by  Ettore,  and  fighting  in  that  crowd,  sword 
11* 


250  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

to  sword,  (and  indeed,  they  were  all  good  swordsmen,)  they 
neither  could  inflict  a  wound  nor  receive  any  harm ; 
they  could  only  give  and  receive  blows  and  thrusts  with 
•wonderful  rapidity ;  and  in  the  confusion,  they  made  the 
boat  roll  one  side  and  the  other,  at  the  imminent  peril 
of  being  capsized. 

Pietraccio's  men  had  not  been  able  to  come  forward, 
because  there  was  room  only  for  three  men  abreast ; 
but  they  did  good  work.  They  lifted  up  the  female 
who  was  at  the  stern,  and  laid  her  down  in  their  own 
boat.  As  the  three  combatants  saw  the  woman  safe, 
(following  the  advice  of  Brancaleone,  given  in  a  whisper,) 
they  slowly  retired,  and  bolting  out  of  the  enemy's  boat 
into  their  own,  they  gave  the  others  a  chance  to  part. 
Ettore  would  not  have  let  his  prey  escape  on  so  easy 
terms  had  he  recognized  Valentino  in  the  melee  ;  but  as 
he  did  not  see  him  among  the  rest,  he  felt  loath  to  imbrue 
his  liands  with  the  blood  of  the  knaves.  Moreover,  satis- 
fied (at  least  he  thought  so)  that  Ginevra  was  rescued,  he 
thought  it  was  his  duty  to  comfort  her.  On  the  other 
hand,  Don  Miguel  became  furious  on  seeing  the  fruit  of  so 
many  hardships  suddenly  snatched  fi'om  his  hands,  and  he 
was  angry  with  himself  for  not  having  secured  the  posses- 
sion of  the  woman  at  the  forepart  of  the  boat ;  but  the  mis- 
hap was  made  now,  and  he  knew  very  well  that  to  attempt 
a  recovery  of  his  prey  from  the  hands  of  these  valiant 
young  men  would  be  as  successful  as  trying  to  dig  holes 
in  water.  But  Valentino's  hireling  did  not  submit  to  his 
disappointment  without  some  revenge.  While  the  three 
friends  were  leaving  the  boat,  he  had  pursued  them  with  a 
sword  in  the  right  hand  and  a  stiletto  in  the  left.  He 
aimed  many  blows  at  Fieramosca,  who  was  the  last  to 
leave  ;  and  as  he  was  stepping  over  the  side  of  the  boat, 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA-  251 

• 

he  succeeded  in  pricking  him  lightly  with  the  point  of  his 
dagger ;  but  in  the  excitement  of  the  scuffle,  Ettore  did 
not  perceive  it. 

Having  thus  parted,  one  party  continued  their  journey 
towards  Barletta ;  the  other  steered  towards  the  Mon- 
astery. 

The  woman  was  wrapped  up  in  a  sheet.  Fieramosca, 
still  panting  from  overexertion,  bolstered  her  up  the  best 
way  he  could.  Removing  the  covering  which  enveloped 
her,  instead  of  Ginevra,  he  saw  Zorais  in  a  swoon.  At  any 
other  time  he  would  have  blessed  God  for  having  liber- 
ated her ;  but  then  he  found  that  he  had  obtained  nothing 
at  the  very  moment  he  thought  he  had  accomplished  every- 
thing. What  had  become  of  Ginevra?  How  did  this 
woman  happen  to  be  here  ?  He  gave  a  deep  sigh,  strik- 
ing his  forehead  with  his  fist,  and  urging  his  companions 
to  puU  away  at  the  oars.  Not  knowing  the  mistake, 
they  were  astonished  that  he  should  not  yet  be  satisfied. 
In  a  few  moments,  he  found  himself  at  the  island,  and  ran 
with  great  speed  up  into  Ginevra's  room.  He  found  every- 
thing opened  and  deserted,  and  the  most  profound  quiet 
in  the  Monastery.  As  he  was  coming  out  to  obtain  some 
information  elsewhere,  he  met  his  companions  who  were 
carrying  Zorais.  She  had,  by  that  time,  recovered,  but 
she  could  not  answer  the  urgent  and  anxious  questions  of 
Fieramosca,  except  by  saying  that  towards  three  of 
the  clock  on  that  evening  she  had  been  awakened  by  a 
number  of  men  who  had  entered  her  room,  had  enveloped 
her  in  a  sheet,  and  carried  her  away  to  a  boat.  She  re- 
membered no  more ;  she  knew  nothing  of  Ginevra,  whom 
she  had  not  seen  since  noon,  when,  perceiving  that  she 
was  in  low  spirits,  she  thought  better  to  leave  her  alone, 
and  at  the  usual  hour  she  bad  retired  to  rest,  without  in- 
quiring after  her. 


252  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

• 

Ettore  listened  to  the  whole  story,  bolt  upright,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  on  Zorais ;  and  at  the  end  of  her  words  his 
countenance  began  to  change,  becoming  pale,  and  his 
cheeks  sinking ;  at  last  he  was  obliged  to  sit  down,  and 
as  he  tried  to  rise  again,  strength  failed  him.  One  of 
the  party  had  gone  by  this  time  to  knock  at  the  doors  of 
the  Monastery,  and  having  awakened  Gennaro,  he  was 
returning  with  a  light.  Brancaleone  and  Inigo  were 
wondering  at  the  countenance  of  Fieraraosca,  so  fright- 
fully changed,  and  they  imagined  it  was  the  effect  of 
much  labor  and  anxiety.  He  tried  again  to  rise,  but  his 
strength  had  left  him  entirely,  and  his  head  falling  back- 
ward on  the  chair,  he  said,  with  faltering  voice :  — 
"  Brancaleone !  Inigo !  I  have  never  been  so  ill  in  my 
life,  and  I  do  not  feel  strength  enough  to  hft  a  feather, 
much  less  to  wield  a  sword  ;  time  flies  by,  and  what 
will  become  of  Ginevra  ?  Oh  !  that  I  might  recover  my 
strength  for  only  one  hour !  .  .  .  and  then  to  become  dust ! 
...  I  beseech  you,  dearest  friends,  let  not  a  moment  pass. 
.  .  .  You  go  ...  I  cannot  say  where ;  .  .  .  but  go  to 
Barletta ;  search  for  her ;  liberate  the  woman ;  find  her 
out  by  all  means.  Eternal  God  I  that  I  should  not  be 
able  to  stir  one  foot  in  her  behalf!  .  .  ."  and  he  tried 
again,  but  he  found  it  impossible.  Then  again  he  en- 
treated his  companions  to  leave  him,  and  hurry  to  help  the 
woman ;  and  he  urged  them  so  much  that,  feeling  there 
was  no  time  for  debating,  they  left  him  with  a  promise 
that  they  would  soon  be  back  with  some  news  ;  and  hav- 
ing returned  to  the  boat  with  great  haste,  tlie^  rowed 
away  towards  Barletta. 

Zorais,  meanwhile,  with  great  solicitude,  was  trying 
her  best  to  help  her  liberator,  showing  in  her  words  and 
acts  a  most  tender  affection  ;    and    having  unlaced   the 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  253 

helmet,  she  was  hard  at  work  in  undoing  the  fastenings 
of  his  gorget.  When  the  armor  was  removed,  she  wiped 
the  cold  perspiration  running  down  his  brow  and  neck, 
and  discovered  that  a  wound  had  been  inflicted  under  the 
shirt  collar. 

"Alas!  thou  art  wounded!"  she  exclaimed.  And 
with  some  linen  wiping  away  the  little  blood  which  had 
oozed  out,  and  which  made  the  wound  appear  greater 
than  it  actually  was,  she  felt  encouraged,  seeing  it  so 
light,  and  said  :  — 

"  It  is  nothing  I  —  only  a  scratch  I  "  but  then  examin- 
ing it  more  closely,  she  noticed  that  a  rim  of  reddish  pur- 
ple was  forming  around  the  wound,  and  a  livid  hue  was 
fast  covering  the  eyes  and  the  lips  of  Fieramosca,  while 
his  hands  and  ears,  becoming  of  the  color  of  box,  were 
icy  and  stiff.  Born  and  reared  in  the  east,  she  was 
skilful  in  the  treatment  of  wounds  of  every  kind,  and 
she  immediately  suspected  that  the  poniard  was  poisoned. 
She  begged  of  the  youth  to  go  to  bed ;  and  supporting 
him,  not  without  great  effort,  she  succeeded  in  leading 
him  to  it.  Upon  feeling  his  pulse,  she  found  it  very  slow 
apd  corded. 

However,  the  sufferings  of  the  body  were  nothing  in 
comparison  to  the  tortures  which  gradually  took  posses- 
sion of  Fieramosca's  mind,  presenting  themselves  under 
new  forms.  The  adventures  of  that  night,  and  Ginevra's 
danger  had,  up  to  that  moment,  occupied  his  mind  entire- 
ly. But,  as  it  happens  to  the  man  who  is  condemned  to 
die,  if  on  the  last  night  of  his  life  he  can  enjoy  some 
sleep,  he  will  awake  with  the  sudden  idea  of  his  immi- 
nent death  falling  upon  his  heart  like  a  dead  weight. 
In  the  same  manner,  Fieramosca  had  scarcely  recovered 
from  the  consternation  in  which  he  was,  when  he  thought 


254  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

of  the  challenge,  and  of  the  oath  he  had  given  that  he 
would  not  expose  himself  to  any  danger  of  being  harmed. 
He  thought  of  the  shame  which  he  would  bring  upon 
himself,  should  he  fail  to  be  at  his  post.  He  thought 
of  the  grief  of  his  heart,  should  he  be  prevented  from 
raising  his  sword  with  his  companions,  —  how  the  French 
would  sneer  at  him,  and  how  the  Italian  honor  would 
be  jeoparded.  All  these  thoughts  shot  through  his  mind, 
and  shook  his  nerves,  so  that  all  the  muscles  of  his  body 
became  contracted  in  convulsive  movements,  and  he  gave 
a  sigh  of  so  much  bitterness,  that  Zorais  started  upon 
hearing  it,  and  inquired  what  was  the  matter.  Ettore 
cried :  — 

"  I  am  dishonored  forever !  The  challenge !  Zorais, 
the  challenge  !  "  —  and  he  struck  his  forehead  with 
clenched  fist.  "Only  a  few  days  hence  ....  and  I 
am  reduced  to  a  state  that  not  a  whole  month  will 
restore  me  to  my  strength.  O  God !  what  great  sin 
have  I  been  guilty  of  to  deserve  this  misfortune  ?  " 

The  young  woman  did  not  know  how  to  reply  to 
these  words  ;  but  very  probably  she  thought  more  of 
the  dangerous  state  of  him  whom  she  loved  so  muctj, 
than  of  the  fight.  There  was  a  danger,  and  her  expe- 
rience told  her  that  it  was  every  moment  increiising. 
A  collapse  into  a  lethargic  inaction  had  suddenly  suc- 
ceeded that  moment  of  excitement.  He  had  fallen  on 
his  back,  his  head  heavily  hanging  on  one  side  of  the 
pillow,  the  face  even  paler  than  before  ;  the  swelling  of 
the  veins  on  the  neck  appeared  convulsive,  and  Zorais, 
examining  the  wound,  found  it  had  increased  to  the  size 
of  an  inch  all  around. 

And  Ettore  still  kept  on  groaning :  — "  Behold  the 
champion   of  Italian   honor !     Here,  the  glorious  award 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  255 

of  the  battle,  the  boasting,  and  the  confidence  of  victory 

liere  they  all  come  to  an  end  !     And  still,  before 

God  !  where  is  ray  crime  ?  —  Could  I  act  differently  from 
what  I  have  done?" 

But  these  reasons  were  very  far  from  giving  him  any 
relief,  and  he  thought :  — 

"  To  whom  shall  I  tell  tliis  story  ?  —  to  whom  my 
reasons  ?  And  if  ever  I  reveal  all,  the  enemy  will  be 
very  glad  to  pretend  that  they  do  not  believe  me,  and 
will  say  :  *  Ettore  feigned  all  this,  because  he  was  afraid 
of  us ! '  " 

While  his  mind  was  painfully  tortured  by  all  these 
thoughts,  the  poison,  which  had  been  inserted  into  his 
body  by  the  stiletto  in  Don  Miguel's  hands,  was  making 
progress,  creeping  through  the  veins  which  branch  off 
from  the  surface  of  the  cranium.  The  suffering  youth 
felt  the  light  of  his  eyes  grow  dim,  and  the  clearness  of 
his  intellect  lose  its  distinctness,  while  his  temples  were 
racked  by  pains  "which  at  first  made  everything  about 
him  appear  unsteady,  then  to  roll  around  with  increasing 
speed,  with  an  abundance  of  shining  dots  which  dazzled 
his  eyes.  Zorais  stood  by,  looking  upon  him,  affrighted 
and  trembling ;  while  Ettore  kept  his  eyes  open,  and  glar- 
ingly riveted  upon  her.  As  his  senses  grew  more  and 
more  unsteady,  and  the  light  from  the  failing  lamp  more 
and  more  faint,  the  form  and  features  of  the  young 
maiden  began  to  change  into  those  of  La  Motte.  This 
spectre  drew  its  mouth  one  side,  and  expressed  a  smile 
bitter  and  frightful ;  then  it  became  larger,  and  opening 
the  lips,  the  figure  of  Graiano  d'Asti  appeared ;  it  also 
increased  from  small  dimensions,  until,  opening  its  jaws 
in  like  manner,  it  changed  into  the  pale  likeness  of 
the  Valentino.     Thus  these  forms  being  reproduced  from 


256  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

each  other  presented  as  it  were  a  phantasmagoria  of 
those  persons,  who  very  naturally  must  have  been  most 
distinct  in  the  mind  of  the  sick  man.  Among  the  rest, 
even  Ginevra's  image  appeared.  He  appealed  to  her 
with  the  most  endearing  names,  and  said :  "  To  let  me 
die  thus  !  I  that  loved  thee  so  much  !  Oh,  take  me  out 
of  this  pit  ...  .  Drive  away  those  lizards  that  creep 
over  my  face !...."  —  and  other  vain  and  vague  words 
of  similar  import.  At  this  stage  of  his  sickness,  all  the 
figures  which  he  imagined  he  saw  began  to  mingle  to- 
gether ;  at  first  they  formed  a  mixture  of  a  red  and 
tremulous  hue  like  a  lasting  flash  of  lightning ;  this  by 
degrees  becoming  misty,  and  then  darkening,  was  entirely 
extinguished,  when  the  youth  was  bereft  of  sense  and 
motion. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

To  keep  pace  with  the  many  events  which  took  place 
simultaneously  in  different  places  during  that  memorable 
evening,  and  to  bring  up  at  the  proper  time,  in  corre- 
sponding relations,  the  persons  who  took  part  in  them,  it 
becomes  necessary  to  hold  the  reader  in  suspense  as  to 
the  fate  of  the  actors.  Although  this  is  a  favorite  plan 
with  historians,  we  do  not  deem  it  very  acceptable,  when 
the  book  is  such  as  to  inspire  the  reader  with  the  de- 
sire of  knowing  the  final  result  of  events.  We  shall  not 
offer  any  apology  to  our  readers  for  having  followed  this 
general  rule,  which  in  our  case  became  indispensable. 
An  apology  of  this  nature  would  be  looked  upon  as  the 
offspring  of  vanity,  and  afford  cause  for  a  smile  at  our  ex- 
pense. Modesty  in  many  is  virtue ;  others  can  turn  its 
practice  to  account. 

However,  be  that  as  it  may,  we  must  take  leave  even 
of  Fieramosca  for  a  short  time.  Let  us  then  retrace  our 
steps  to  the  Rock,  and  visit  Valentino,  who  is  tarrying  in 
the  small  apartments  on  the  lower  story  over  the  sea. 

lie  had  failed  in  accomplishing  one  of  the  purposes 
which  had  led  him  to  the  Spanish  camp.  His  cunning 
was  matched  by  the  wisdom  and  foresight  of  Gonzalo, 
and  he  could  not  prevail  on  him  to  enter  into  a  league, 
or  even  to  grant  him  his  support.  The  Spaniard  had 
kept  his  word,  as  far  as  to  keep  his  concealment  secret, 
but  had  declined  to  accede  to  his  other  requests.     For 


258  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

the  rest  he  entertained  him  with  every  consideration 
wliich  was  due  to  his  station,  if  not  to  his  character. 
During  the  seven  or  eight  days  which  passed  between 
the  opening  and  the  ending  of  these  negotiations,  the- 
Duke  kept  close  in  his  little  quarters,  to  escape  being 
noticed  ;  and  if  he  ever  went  out  for  the  sake  of  enjoying 
the  open  air,  it  was  always  at  night,  and  protected  by  a 
mask,  as  it  was  customary  for  men  of  high  station  in 
those  times,  —  a  custom  which,  we  must  allow,  was  not 
always  followed  for  hallowed  purposes.  But,  as  we  have 
mentioned,  he  had  some  other  motive  in  his  visiting  Bar- 
letta,  besides  his  political  manoeuvres.  He  was  anx- 
ious to  have  revenge  on  the  woman  who  had  dared  to 
show  contempt  for  him.  And  the  plots  laid  for  this  end, 
by  the  dexterity  and  skill  of  Don  Miguel,  were  to  be 
consummated  that  evening.  It  will  appear  strange  to 
more  than  one  of  our  readers  that  this  famous  debauchee 
who  had  given  himself  up  to  every  kind  of  iniquity, 
should  feel  so  much  interested  in  the  possession  of  one 
woman,  and  should  so  earnestly  pursue  any  trace  of  her. 
Truly  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  think  that  love,  even  of 
the  most  abject  sort,  prompted  the  desires  of  Valentino. 
No :  Ginevra  had  resisted  him ;  and  her  resistance  was 
accompanied  with  contempt  and  horror  for  him.  She 
lived  happy,  he  thought,  with  another.  He  felt  as  if  he 
had  been  made  little  of,  and  scorned.  And  who  could 
ever  boast  of  having  kept  Cesare  Borgia  at  bay  ? 

Did  he  ever  meet  any  woman,  who  had  beauty,  and 
was  not  bereft  by  him  of  virtue  or  happiness?  —  and  yet 
there  were  some  among  them  of  the  highest  respectabil- 
ity, and  who,  being  connected  with  men  of  power,  might 
have  deemed  themselves  well  protected  and  secure.  How 
could  it  now  be  borne   that  a  woman  little  known  and 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  259 

less  flattered  by  society,  should  scorn  him  who  held 
Italy  in  fear,  from  one  end  to  the  other  ? 

At  this  time,  Valentino  knew,  from  the  promises  of 
Don  Miguel,  that  he  was  near  satisfying  his  revenge,  and 
would  say  to  himself — she  will  have  to  pay  dear  for 
having  kept  me  so  long  in  this  dungeon  !  —  In  fact,  it 
must  have  been  a  sore  trial  to  live  in  small  rooms,  so 
much  like  a  prison,  accustomed  as  he  was  to  the  splen- 
dor of  a  court ;  but  he  would  cheerfully  bear  a  thousand 
privations  for  the  sake  of  obtaining  his  purpose.  More- 
over, he  had  not  been  entirely  deprived  of  occupation 
during  those  days.  Besides  the  hours  he  had  spent 
with  Gonzalo,  and  the  hours  he  had  been  engaged  with 
Don  Miguel  in  planning  the  best  ways  to  carry  out  their 
undertaking,  messengers  arrived  day  after  day  from  Ro- 
magna,  sent  to  him  by  his  faithful  men  with  letters,  dis- 
patches, and  information  on  the  affairs  of  the  day.  They 
arrived  and  departed  always  by  night ;  —  another  instance 
of  what  Nicolo  Machiavelli  had  asserted,  in  writing  to 
the  Commune  of  Florence  a  short  time  before  these 
events  took  place,  that  of  all  the  Courts  in  the  world,  in 
none  was  secrecy  so  well  kept  as  in  that  of  the  Duke  ;  — 
and  although  he  did  not  add  by  what  means  this  great 
secrecy  was  secured,  he  gave  to  understand  plainly 
enough,  that  an  impudent  tongue  was  surely  punished 
with  the  silence  of  the  grave. 

This  correspondence  was  carried  by  means  of  light 
shallops,  which  sailed  along  the  coasts  of  Romagna,  and 
found  suitable  hiding-places  among  the  rocks  at  the  foot 
of  Mount  Gargano  ;  thence,  under  the  cover  of  night,  the 
messenger  was  dispatched  in  a  boat  to  the  castle.  From 
such  a  crew,  Don  Miguel  had  selected  his  men  to  aid 
him  in  the  business  of  that  night. 


260  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

On  that  evening,  while  the  castle  reechoed  with  the 
music  and  the  joy  of  the  festival,  Valentino  was  seated 
before  a  table,  and  to  beguile  the  time,  he  was  examining 
the  files  of  papers  brought  to  him  by  the  couriers  of  the 
previous  nights.  He  was  dressed  in  a  cape  fastened  in 
front  by  a  row  of  small  buttons,  the  bust  and  the  sleeves 
of  black  satin  fitting  the  person  rather  tight,  and  over 
the  sleeves  were  loose  strips  of  white  velvet,  confined  at 
four  different  points  around  the  arms  with  a  list  of  the 
same  kind  of  velvet.  Three  or  four  buttons  unfastened 
near  the  collar  of  the  cape,  left  open  to  view  a  coat- 
of-mail  of  the  finest  steel,  which  the  Duke  always  wore. 
This  style  of  dress  was  very  often  used  by  the  Duke,  and 
those  who  have  visited  the  gallery  of  Prince  Borghese 
in  Rome,  will  remember  the  portrait  of  the  Duke,  taken 
by  Raffaello,  in  this  costume.  In  spite  of  his  robust  con- 
stitution, he  had  been  for  some  time  suffering  from  a  salt 
humor  of  an  herpetic  nature,  either  creeping  through  the 
blood  or  appearing  on  the  skin,  and  especially  over  the 
face ;  and  it  would  then  turn  its  livid  paleness  into  a 
spongy  redness,  covered  with  blotches  running  with  hu- 
mor. The  loathsome  deformity  of  his  face  was  such 
as  to  sicken  even  his  most  constant  attendants ;  and  a 
soul  like  his  could  not  be  enclosed  in  a  frame  more 
befittingly  portraying  its  qualities.  In  consequence  of 
the  sedentary  life  which,  so  much  against  his  habits,  he 
had  been  constrained  to  lead  during  those  days,  and  from 
the  effects  of  the  weather,  it  being  then  spring,  those 
humors  were  breaking  out  most  furiously,  deforming  his 
features  more  than  usual,  and  giving  to  his  whole  frame 
that  unaccountable  and  restless  peevishness,  which  is  gen- 
erally the  consequence  of  such  ailments. 

About   two  o'clock,  when  dancing  was   commenced  in 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  261 

the  halls  above,  the  door  leading  to  the  Duke's  apart- 
ment was  lightly  pushed  open  by  a  man  dressed  in  red- 
brown  tights,  with  a  cape  reaching  half  down  his  thigh, 
a  black  hood  drawn  over  his  eyes,  a  sword  and  a 
stiletto  at  his  side,  and  a  bundle  under  his  arm.  Valen- 
tino looked  up ;  and  the  messenger  entering,  made  a 
bow  and  laid  on  the  table  the  bundle,  without  a  word 
being  uttered  by  either  party.  The  Duke  laid  one  hand 
on  the  package,  and  said  :  — 

"  I  shall  quit  this  place  to-night ;  go  to  the  last  room  of 
these  apartments ;  shut  thyself  in,  and  for  any  noise  that 
thou  mayst  hear,  move  not,  unless  I  call  thee." 

The  man  left  by  a  door  opposite  to  that  by  which  he 
had  entered.  Cesare  Borgia,  with  the  sharp  blade  of  his 
stiletto,  severed  the  vermilion  tapes  which  fastened  to- 
gether the  dispatches  he  had  just  received  from  his  father. 
As  he  opened  the  package,  a  golden  ball  fell  from  it  and 
rolled  over  the  table  ;  the  Duke  started  with  a  look  of 
great  suspicion  ;  but  examining  moi"e  carefully  both  pa- 
pers and  seals,  he  became  reassured  and  resumed  his  seat. 

Let  us  not  imagine  that  this  friglit  was  the  consequence 
of  a  panic  fear.  The  ways  of  administering  poison  in 
those  days  were  so  various,  and  even  when  sent  in  a 
letter  would  produce  on  the  opening  an  effect  so  imme- 
diate, that  we  may  easily  pardon  the  Duke,  if  in  per- 
ceiving a  mysterious  unexpected  object,  he  became 
alarmed ;  and  if  there  was  a  man  who  should  at  once 
think  the  worse  of  all  mankind,  it  was  certainly  Cesare 
Borgia. 

The  letters  were  written  in  cypher,  the  key  of  which 
was  in  possession  only  of  himself  and  of  the  writer ;  his 
long  practice  enabled  him  to  run  over  the  contents  with 
a  quick  glance.     Here  we  give  its  substance  :  — 


262  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

"  Alexander  had  been  sounded  by  the  ambassador  of 
the  Cristianissirao  on  the  project  of  forming  a  league 
against  the  Catholic  King,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  from 
him  the  kingdom  of  Naples ;  he  offered  at  the  same 
time  to  join  his  foi'ces  with  those  of  Alexander,  in  the 
campaign  against  Siena,  and  against  the  estates  of  Count 
Giordano.  But  Alexander  had  not  thought  fit  to  enter 
into  the  compact  before  he  was  acquainted  with  the  re- 
sult of  the  negotiations  between  Valentino  and  Gonzalo." 

"  He  had  received  from  the  mother  and  paramour  of 
Cardinal  Orsino,  a  sum  of  money  and  a  jewel  of  very 
great  value,  taken  from  the  palace  of  Count  Giordano, 
which  had  been  delivered  over  to  pillage  by  order  of 
Alexander,  after  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Gravina, 
Vitellozzo,  and  Liverotto  of  Fermo. 

"  It  was  his  desire  that  the  Duke  should  keep  his  troops 
in  readiness,  that  he  might,  after  the  death  of  said  Cardi- 
nal, take  the  field  at  Bracciano  where  the  Orsini  and 
their  adherents  had  concentrated  their  forces. 

"  He  had  been  forewarned  against  a  danger  which 
threatened  him  that  year,  and  he  had  been  advised  to 
carry  on  his  person  a  small  globe  of  gold,  containing  a 
charm  of  superior  power,  the  like  of  which  was  sent  to 
the  Duke  for  the  same  purpose." 

Although  the  facts  touched  in  this  letter  ai-e  unfortu- 
nately true,  and  the  treachery  planned  against  Corneto 
recoiled  on  the  head  of  Alexander,  and  was  the  cause 
of  his  death,  we  have  hesitated  before  placing  them  be- 
fore our  readers.  But  if  God,  for  some  inscrutable  ends, 
has  allowed  that  a  supreme  keeper  of  the  holiest  things 
might  abuse  them  so  shamefully,  it  would  be  an  ill  ad- 
vised purpose  to  conceal  his  iniquities,  and  we  should  be 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  263 

blamed  for  our  partiality,  appearing  more  jealous  for 
party  than  for  truth,  which  will  forever  stand  without  the 
aid  of  dishonest  means.  The  faults  of  Borgia,  and  of 
other  ministers  of  the  Church,  will  be  weighed  in  the 
scales  of  God's  justice,  and  man  is  most  solemnly  fore- 
warned of  the  awful  severity  of  its  judgment.  But 
from  the  ashes  of  those  ministers,  as  well  as  from  the 
tombs  of  the  martyrs,  towering  and  powerful,  the  truth 
eternally  is  proclaimed,  that  not  on  gold,  not  on  arms,  not 
on  the  ai'ts  of  human  policy,  but  on  the  infallible  prom- 
ises of  the  Gospel  arose,  and  gloriously  stands,  the 
Church  of  Christ. 

Far  different  ideas  arose  in  the  mind  of  the  Duke  of 
Romagna,  as  he  perused  his  father's  letter.  Turning  his 
eyes  alternately  from  the  letter  to  the  golden  ball,  which 
he  kept  twirling  between  his  fingers,  a  smile  of  compas- 
sion—  he  believed  neither  in  God  nor  in  his  saints  —  ap- 
peared on  his  countenance  ;  but  then  again,  he  seemed 
to  be  agitated  with  feelings  of  a  credulous  and  timid  sus- 
picion ;  so  true  it  is  that  the  spirit  of  man  needs  to  see 
a  principle  that,  will  work  beyond  the  grave.  Had  he 
not  resolved  to  depart  that  night,  the  contents  of  that  let- 
ter would  have  determined  him  to  it.  A  plot  which  flat- 
tered his  ambition  so  much,  and  might  replenish  his 
coffers,  was  an  affair  of  far  more  importance  than  run- 
ning after  a  woman.  He  thought  that  Don  Miguel  would 
not  be  long  in  retummg  with  his  men  ;  and  so  placing  the 
ball  in  his  bosom,  with  an  air  of  nonchalance  which 
seemed  to  say  —  "  let  it  be  as  it  will,"  —  he  began  to 
put  together  his  papers,  and  whatever  else  he  intended 
to  carry  with  him. 

In  a  few  minutes  everything  was  ready.  Then  he 
resumed  his  seat  as  before  ;  and  for  want  of  something 


264  ETTOKE    FIERAMOSCA. 

else  to  do,  he  again  took  the  ball  from  his  bosom,  ex- 
amined it  over  and  over,  and  passing  it  from  one  hand 
to  the  other,  was  thinking  of  him  who  had  sent  it ;  and 
was  trying  to  guess  what  it  might  contain.  Then  pass- 
ing on  from  one  idea  to  another,  he  thought  of  those  prin- 
ciples of  religion  and  of  those  articles  of  faith  which  he 
himself  had  once  believed,  then  of  his  splendid  estates, 
which  were  the  fruit  of  the  abuse  of  religious  power  ;  and 
laughing  in  his  heart  at  the  credulity  of  many,  exclaim- 
ed:—  "for  my  part,  I  enjoy  pleasure  and  power  at  the 
expense  of  alL"  —  But  he  also  heard  a  voice  in  a  faint, 
but  deep  tone,  rising  from  under  the  foundation  of  so 
much  pride,  violence,  and  irrehgion,  and  repeating :  "  It 
might  he  true  !  " 

The  Duke  strove  not  to  mind  it,  but  he  could  not  stifle 
it ;  he  rose  and  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room  with 
great  impatience,  endeavoring  to  change  the  course  of 
thought.  But  to  no  purpose.  Those  words,  "  It  might  be 
true  !  "  were  forever  sounding  in  his  ears,  pursuing  him, 
pressing  him,  and  poisoning,  so  to  speak,  the  enjoyment  of 
possessing  so  many  honors,  so  much  power,  and  so  much 
wealth.  He  threw  himself  on  the  bed,  burying  angrily 
his  head  in  the  pillows ;  and  calling  himself  a  fool,  he 
succeeded  at  last  in  calming  himself.  The  eyelids  became 
heavy,  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  fell  asleep. 

But  it  was  not  the  slumber  of  a  calm  soul.  The  ideas 
of  the  waking  mind  worked  in  the  same  direction  during 
his  sleep.  He  dreamt  he  was  in  Rome,  on  the  road  from 
the  Castle  to  Saint  Peter's.  Heaven  and  earth  were  in 
great  disorder.  Everything  looked  entirely  different 
from  what  it  used  to  be,  enveloped  in  darkness,  and  in 
an  uproar  of  yelling  and  shouting.  In  his  efforts  to  ad- 
vance towards  the  Vatican   he  failed,  and  was    panting 


ETTORE    FIEKAMOSCA.  265 

with  fatigye.  He  felt  as  if  some  persons  had  hold  of 
him ;  he  looked  around ;  he  was  surrounded  by  those 
whom  he  had  betrayed,  poisoned,  and  murdei'ed ;  they 
had  their  clutches  in  his  hair  and  in  his  Hesh,  and  made 
the  air  hideous  with  long  cries  of  despair. 

Then,  as  if  by  magic,  he  found  himself  in  Saint 
Peter's,  which  was  the  scene  of  an  undistinguishable 
tumult,*  all  dark,  resounding  with  loud  wails,  the  walls 
tottering,  the  tombs  thrown  open,  and  spectres  running 
to  and  fro ;  and  when  he  was  harassed  by  his  victims, 
who  incessantly  cried,  '•  Vengeance  of  God !  "  he  thought 
—  "then  this  must  be  the  judgment  that  I  would  not 
believe." 

And  he  struggled  desperately  to  make  his  way,  and 
seek  refuge  near  the  Pontiff,  whom  he  could  see  at  a  dis- 
tance, in  the  midst  of  a  faint  and  pale  light.  But  he  was 
held  back  on  one  side  by  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  Candia, 
with  his  wounds  wide  open,  discharging  not  blood,  but  a 
kind  of  filthy,  whitish  humor,  his  features  distorted  and 
swollen,  like  those  of  a  corpse  that  has  been  long  decay- 
ing under  the  waters ;  on  the  other  side  by  the  Duke  of 
Biselli,  Astorre  Manfredi,  and  women  and  children,  all 
violently  sobbing,  and  with  outstretched  hands,  crying  for 
justice  and  revenge !  Alexander  was  mantled  in  black 
vestments,  with  the  yellowish  color  of  death  upon  his 
flabby  countenance ;  and  while  his  figure  began  slowly 
to  rise,  the  sobbing  and  the  crying  were  overwhelmed  by 
an  outburst  of  infernal  laughter,  emanating  from  the  lips 
of  a  demon,  who,  crouching  on  the  floor,  and  his  chin 
resting  on  his  knees,  shouted,  —  "  Jesus  Christ,  Religion, 
Popes  .  .  .  all  an  imposture,"  —  and  that  shout  rebound- 
ed in  the  echo  of  a  protracted  howl  all  along  the  arches 
of  the  church. 

12 


266  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

That  howl  was  still  in  the  Duke's  ears,  whgn  he  was 
entirely  awakened  and  sitting  up  in  his  bed. 

He  was  for  a  moment  frightened,  but  the  dream  only 
confirmed  him  in  his  impious  belief  that  he  might  commit 
any  crime  without  any  fear  of  punishment  in  another 
Ufa. 

As  he  was  drawing  encouragement  from  this  thought  — 
it  was  just  a  few  minutes  past  the  hour  of  three  —  the 
buzzing  noise  of  so  many  persons  conversing  together, 
the  music,  the  sound  of  mirth  and  enjoyment  from  the 
halls  above,  penetrated  with  a  faint  and  distant  sound, 
through  the  massive  thickness  of  the  vaults  into  those 
apartments  of  the  lower  story.  At  that  same  time,  the 
same  noise  which  had  brought  to  a  sudden  close  the  inter- 
view between  the  Lady  Elvira  and  FanfuUa,  was  heard 
by  the  Duke,  but  much  nearer,  and  as  if  it  came  from 
behind  the  door  of  his  room,  which  opened  over  a  narrow 
strip  of  the  beach  between  the  sea  and  the  foundations  of 
the  castle.  He  went  out  to  ascertain  whence  the  noise 
came,  but  he  only  saw  an  empty  boat  with  the  bow  rest- 
ing on  the  sand.  He  looked  up  to  the  piazza  and  to  the 
windows,  but  he  could  not  see  a  living  soul ;  he  was 
about  returning  to  his  room,  but  on  a  second  thought  he 
turned  around  and  advanced  a  few  steps  towards  the  skiff, 
and  stretching  his  neck  over  its  side,  he  discovered  a 
woman  lying  prostrate  at  the  bottom  of  it,  with  her  head 
between  her  hands,  and  moaning  from  time  to  time. 
After  the  first  movement  of  surprise,  he  instantly  made  up 
his  mind,  and  entering  the  boat,  placed  one  arm  around 
the  waist  of  the  woman,  the  other  under  her  knees,  and 
thus  lifting  her,  senseless  as  she  was,  he  carried  her  into 
his  room  and  laid  her  on  the  bed.  But  who  can  tell  his 
amazement,  when  bringing  the  light  near  to  her  face,  he 


ETTOKE   FIERAMOSCA.  267 

recognized  Ginevra  !  He  had  too  vivid  a  remembrance 
of  her  looks,  to  deny  the  evidence  of  his  eyes ;  but  how 
did  she  come  under  his  power  then,  alone,  and  to  all  ap- 
pearance having  eluded  the  dihgent  searches  and  the 
plots  of  Don  Miguel  ? 

From  henceforward  —  he  said  to  himself —  I  will  at 
least  believe  that  there  is  a  devil.  Only  a  befriending 
devil  could  serve  me  so  well ;  and  placing  the  lamp  on  a 
stand  near  the  head  of  the  bed,  he  seated  himself  on  the 
side  of  it,  watching  Ginevra's  face  to  catch  the  moment 
when  she  would  recover.  The  fiendish  pleasure  of  hav- 
ing at  last  a  chance  to  enjoy  a  draught  of  long  revenge, 
fired  his  eyes  with  a  glare  like  that  of  an  electric 
spark  which  flashed  between  the  lids  ;  and  the  blotches 
which  disfigured  his  person  seemed  to  swell,  giving  his 
countenance  a  tinge  like  the  color  of  blood.  Indeed,  a 
countenance,  which  with  physical  deformity  united  the  ex- 
pression of  crime,  could  never  be  exhibited  under  a  more 
hideous  aspect.  On  one  side  was  Ginevra,  pale,  motion- 
less, with  grief  deeply  graven  in  her  face,  her  frame 
helpless  and  languid,  on  the  other  side  Valentino,  as  we 
have  described  him,  —  it  was  a  picture  of  desperate  unut- 
terable sorrow.  Both  remained  in  this  attitude  a  long 
time  ;  Ginevra  might  be  called  happy,  as  long  as  in  that 
senseless  state,  and  with  eyes  closed,  she  did  not  know 
where  and  in  whose  power  she  was  ;  but  this  happy 
unconsciousness  did  not  last  long,  and  from  several  slight 
movements  Cesare  Borgia  perceived  that  his  victim 
would  soon  open  her  eyes.  He  was  sure  that  he  would 
not  receive  any  interruption  at  that  hour  and  in  that 
place ;  the  feast  was  then  at  its  height,  and  a  cry  could 
not  be  heard  from  under  those  vaults.  Therefore,  feeling 
perfect  security,  he  resolved  in  his  heart,  as  he  had  plenty 


268  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

of  time,    to  torture   the    victim   of  his    revenge   at  his 
leisure. 

At  last  a  deep  drawn  sigh  made  the  bosom  of  the 
young  woman  swell.  She  opened  her  eyes  for  an  instant 
and  shut  them  immediately.  Again  she  opened  them, 
and  again  ;  then  she  began  to  stare  in  the  face  of  him 
who  stood  before  her  motionless  and  unknown  ;  but  she 
looked  at  him  vaguely,  without  any  idea  being  impressed. 
on  her  mind  by  the  sight ;  still  her  eye  seemed  to  loath 
the  appearance  of  that  disfigured  countenance ;  she 
turned  it  away,  slowly,  and  with  a  look  of  so  much 
terror  that  it  might  have  moved  an}'  other  heart  Re- 
covering her  consciousness  by  degrees,  the  I'emembrance 
of  Ettore  at  the  feet  of  the  Lady  Elvira  was  the  first 
clear  idea  which  presented  itself  to  her  mind. 

"  Oh,  Ettore ! "  she  said,  scarcely  articulating  the 
words ;  "  then  it  was  true,  and  thou  hast  betrayed  me  ! " 
and  covering  her  eyes  and  her  brow  with  both  hands, 
she  remained  a  few  moments  in  that  attitude.  Valentino's 
lips  slightly  curled  with  anger,  as  he  heard  that  name. 

At  length  Ginevra  remembered  that  she  must  be  in 
the  boat,  and  leaning  on  her  elbow,  made  an  effort  to 
rise,  when  she  felt  the  softness  of  the  bed ;  she  gazed 
around  in  great  terror,  perceived  the  Duke,  and  uttered 
a  cry  ;  but  it  was  stifled  at  once  by  the  hand  of  that 
brute,  who  caught  her  by  the  throat,  and  threw  her  back 
on  the  bed. 

"  Ginevra,  do  not  cry,"  said  Valentino ;  "  throw  not 
thy  breath  away  ;  I  am  glad  thou  hast  come  to  pay  me  a 
visit,  and  I  shall  repay  thee  for  a  journey  taken  at  this 
hour  of  night.  .  .  .  But  it  is  not  me  thou  seekest.  Is  it 
not  so  ?  What  use  to  fret  ?  Not  every  ball  that  is  cast 
comes  out  perfectly  round." 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  269 

Ginevra  heard  these  words  with  a  tremor  which  quite 
overpowered  fier.  As  she  had  not  seen  the  Duke  for  a 
long  time,  she  could  not  recognize  him  at  once,  and  only 
felt  a  sensation  of  horror,  as  she  remembered  some  fea- 
tures of  that  physiognomy.  But  knowing  that  it  was 
not  in  her  power  to  oflPer  any  resistance,  she  only  implored 
thus :  "  Signore !  .  .  .  who  are  you  ?  .  .  .  take  pity  on 
me  !  .  .  .  what  do  you  want  ?  .  .  .  let  me  go !  .  .  ." 

And  the  Duke  :  — 

"  Dost  thou  remember,  Ginevra,  in  Rome  many  years 
ago,  how  thou  didst  act  towards  a  man  who  loved  thee  like 
the  apple  of  his  eye,  and  who  would  have  lavished  upon 
thee  gifts  and  caresses  such  as  a  woman  never  could 
boast  of  before  ?  Dost  thou  remember  that  thy  manners 
towards  him,  then,  would  have  put  disgrace  upon  a  stable 
boy  ?  Dost  thou  remember  that  his  love  was  laughed 
at  by  thee,  his  offers  treated  with  contempt,  and  that  thou 
didst  actually  put  on  airs  which  would  have  been  too 
lofty  even  for  a  queen  ?  Well,  dost  thou  remember  who 
that  man  was  ?  it  was  myself.  And  dost  thou  know 
who  I  am  ?     Cesare  Borgia." 

The  abhorred  name  fell  like  a  weight  upon  Ginevra's 
heart,  crushing  every  hope  out  of  it ;  she  breathed  not, 
but  shaking  like  an  aspen  leaf,  she  looked  at  the  Duke 
as  she  would  at  a  tiger  that  held  her  in  his  clutches,  and 
whom  she  could  not  even  think  of  moving  to  compassion 
with  words. 

"  Now  that  thou  knowest  who  I  am,"  continued  the 
Duke,  "just  think  whether  thou  hast  any  claim  to  my 
compassion  ;  still  I  might  be  prevailed  not  to  wreak  on 
thee  that  vengeance  which  I  ought  and  might  very  easily 
take.  But,  on  one  condition,  Ginevra  ;  that  is,  that  thou 
behavest  wisely  ;  and  I  assure  thee,  thou  needst  to  do  so." 


270  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

The  comparative  mildness  of  these  words  kindled  a 
spark  of  hope  in  the  heart  of  the  woman,  and  M'ith 
joined  hands,  not  venturing,  however,  to  look  at  him,  that 
he  might  not  perceive  her  horror  and  disgust,  she  began 
to  pray  to  him  as  she  would  have  done  before  the  shrine 
of  a  saint,  that  he  would  not  crush  a  poor  woman  already 
too  miserable  and  unhappy. 

"  I  beseech  you,  noble  Lord,  by  the  "Wounds  of  Jesus, 
by  that  Day  when  even  you,  now  so  powerful  on  earth, 
will  stand  a  naked  soul  in  the  presence  of  an  eternal 
Judge.  ...  If  you  ever  had  a  woman  whom  you  loved 
most  dearly,  and  saw  her  in  another  man's  power,  and 
should  in  vain  entreat  for  mercy,  ...  if  your  own 
mother,  if  your  own  sister  were  in  my  situation,  and 
prayed,  and  prayed  in  vain,  you  would  cry  for  vengeance 
before  God  —  would  you  not  —  against  any  one  who 
should  martyr  them  so  ?  .  .  ." 

These  words,  coupling  the  names  of  Vannozza  and  of 
Lucrezia  Borgia  with  ideas  of  virtue  and  honesty,  were 
the  occasion  of  a  smile  in  Valentino,  who  knew  them  a 
little.  But  it  was  an  ominous  smile,  which  redoubled  the 
fears  of  Ginevra ;  still  she  continued  her  entreaties,  the 
crying  changing  her  voice  until  she  could  scarcely  utter 
the  words  distinctly,  interrupted  as  she  was  by  sobs, 
and  these  were  the  last  words  :  "  I  am  an  insignificant, 
miserable  woman ;  what  good  may  it  do  you,  what  glory 
will  it  bring  to  you,  the  powerful  lord  you  are,  to  have 
taken  revenge  on  me  ?  .  .  .  Who  knows  but  the  day  will 
come  when  the  recollection  of  having  shown  mercy  to  me 
will  afford  a  balm  to  your  heart  ? "  It  is  not  in  our 
power  to  describe  the  anxiety,  anguish,  and  despair  of 
the  most  unhappy  Ginevra,  —  her  tears,  her  entreaties,  at 
last  her  ravingr  and  her  curses  on  the    fiend   who  tor- 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  271 

mented  her.  The  picture  would  lacerate  the  reader's 
heart. 

In  the  meantime  Don  Miguel  had  returned  with  his 
companion.  He  was  in  very  bad  humor,  with  his  hands 
empty,  and  fearing  the  revenge  of  his  master.  Reaching 
the  foot  of  the  castle  he  saw  the  two  boats,  one  belonging 
to  the  messenger,  and  the  other  to  Ginevra,  and  he  be- 
came suspicious  ;  he  approached  the  door,  and  hearing  the 
tumult  within  became  alarmed  ;  he  pushed  the  door,  but 
it  was  bolted  ;  however,  he  felt  reassured  when  from  the 
tone  of  voice  with  which  the  Duke  answered  "  Wait," 
he  concluded  that  there  was  no  danger. 

The  noise  in  the  galleries  above,  and  the  shouts  of  the 
people,  reechoed  as  loudly  as  before.  Don  Miguel  listened 
more  closely  at  the  crevices  of  the  door,  and  after  a 
pause  of  a  few  minutes,  heard  the  Duke  exclaiming: 
"  Well !  I  leave  thee  to  thy  God  and  to  thy  saints  ;  .  .  .  " 
and  instantly  the  bolt  was  removed,  the  door  was  opened, 
and  the  Duke  came  out. 

The  servant  wished  to  make  some  excuses,  but  was 
interrupted.  "  Thou  wilt  tell  me  all  at  another  time  ;  of 
all  this  I  know  more  than  thou  canst  tell  me."  These 
words  might  have  led  Don  Miguel  to  believe  that  his 
master  was  angry,  but  from  the  manners  and  looks  of  the 
Duke,  he  concluded  that  there  was  some  mystery  which 
he  did  not  understand. 

Valentino  addressed  the  men  who  had  come  with  Don 
Miguel,  saying :  "  quick,  all  hands  aboard,  and  wait  for 
me  under  Sant'  Orsola,"  and  then  to  Don  Miguel :  "  come 
thou  with  me." 

The  crew  were  promptly  pulling  at  the  oars,  and  soon 
out  of  sight.  Don  Miguel  and  the  Duke  reentered  the 
rooms,  and  immediately  came  out  again  carrying  Ginevra, 


272  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

whom  they  replaced  in  the  boat  in  which  she  had  been 
found. 

The  messenger  was  then  called  out  of  the  room  in 
which  he  had  been  confined  by  the  Duke  ;  and  the  three 
together  entering  the  boat  without  uttering  a  word,  over- 
took the  larger  one,  and  all  embarked  in  it. 

The  Duke  sat  on  the  poop,  and  Don  Miguel  was 
standing  before  him ;  and  although  he  now  knew  why 
his  master  did  not  seem  much  disappointed  at  the  failure 
of  the  plot,  still  he  undertook  to  tell  him  the  reason  why 
they  had  returned  with  empty  hands,  and  very  minutely 
narrated  how  they  had  proceeded,  and  how,  being  at- 
tacked by  a  superior  force  they  had  scarcely  been  able 
to  defend  themselves,  and  the  woman  had  been  res- 
cued. 

"  But  one  of  them  did  not  get  off  very  easy,"  he 
added,  pointing  behind  him  to  Pietraccio,  who,  as  we 
have  seen,  had  received  a  blow  on  the  head  from  an  oar, 
and  having  fallen  senseless  in  the  boat,  had  been  carried 
away  a  prisoner.  At  that  time  he  had  recovered,  and 
was  sitting  a  few  steps  from  the  Duke ;  the  men,  appre- 
hending no  danger  of  his  being  able  to  escape,  did  not 
molest  him. 

"  This  ruffian,"  continued  Don  Miguel,  "  fell  upon  us 
like  a  fury,  but  the  Rosso  here  bestowed  upon  his  ears  a 
whack  that  prostrated  him.  I  thought  he  was  dead,  but 
I  see  he  is  coming  to  himself." 

From  sundry  expressions  of  Don  Miguel,  Pietraccio 
became  convinced  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  him, 
whom  he  had  in  vain  sought  among  the  crowd  that 
afternoon.  Valentino  perceived  that  the  fellow  looked 
at  him  with  a  dark  eye,  and  with  a  mien  that  betrayed 
treacherous  intentions,  and  was  about  to  order  him  to  be 


ETTOP.E  FIERAMOSCA.  273 

thrown  to  the  fish.  But  Don  Miguel  who,  as  the  read- 
er will  remember,  had  heard  in  the  prison  of  Sant'  Or- 
sola  the  dying  words  of  the  assassin's  mother,  and  the 
last  injunction  that  he  should  seek  vengeance  on  Cesare 
Borgia,  was  also  satisfied,  looking  at  him  by  stealth,  that 
he  was  meditating  some  desperate  blow  on  his  master. 
The  villain  had  attached  himself  to  the  Duke's  service 
for  the  sake  of  his  pecuniary  interest ;  nevertheless,  he 
would  have  rejoiced,  if  without  danger  of  being  impli- 
cated, and  without  the  least  suspicion  on  himself,  he 
should  have  a  chance  of  making  him  pay  for  an  old 
offence.  The  reader  will  easily  understand  what  feelings 
Don  Miguel  must  have  harbored  towards  the  Duke,  when 
he  is  acquainted  with  the  fact  that  the  woman  whose 
death  he  had  witnessed  in  the  dungeon  under  the  tower, 
was  his  own  wife. 

When,  after  the  encounter  with  Ettore  Fieramosca, 
Don  Miguel  had  found  Pietraccio  in  his  power,  he  con- 
ceived some  general  ideas,  and  almost  arranged  a  plot  in 
his  mind,  to  use  him  as  an  instrument  of  vengeance  for  his 
mother ;  but  in  that  hurry  of  events  that  succeeded  each 
other  so  rapidly  he  could  not  bring  his  thoughts  into  any 
definite  order ;  thus  having  no  set  plan  as  yet  formed,  he 
only  watched  for  any  opportunity  that  might  offer  itself, 
and  now  he  thought  that  things  were  taking  a  turn  favor- 
able to  his  wishes.  In  fact,  after  he  had  made  the  last 
remark  to  the  Duke,  there  was  a  moment  of  silence, 
which  afforded  the  young  man  time  enough  to  attempt  a 
desperate  blow.  He  rose  from  liis  place,  and  darting 
by  Don  Miguel,  who  only  feigned  to  hold  him  back,  he 
rushed  upon  Valentino  like  an  enraged  beast,  wishing  to 
tear  him  to  pieces  with  nails  and  teeth ;  but  the  Duke 
suspected  the  man's  purpose,  and  was  prepai'ed  to  re- 
12* 


274  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

ceive  him ;  and  Don  Miguel  had  scarcely  caught  him  by 
the  shoulders,  when  Pietraccio  fell  at  his  feet,  pierced 
through  and  through  by  the  stiletto  the  Duke  carried  at 
his  side,  and  which  he  had  used  with  incredible  dex- 
terity. 

The  attack  on  the  part  of  Pietraccio,  and  the  blows 
from  the  Duke,  were  the  work  of  an  instant ;  and  when 
the  crew  turned  around  to  see  whence  the  noise  came,  it 
was  all  over ;  but  then  halting  for  an  instant  they  per- 
ceived Valentino  replacing  the  stiletto  in  its  sheath,  and 
pushing  the  still  breathing  body  of  the  murdered  youth 
with  his  foot,  and  commanding  that  it  should  be  thrown 
overboard. 

"  The  wretched  fool ! "  exclaimed  Don  Miguel,  pre- 
tending to  be  much  alarmed  at  the  danger  his  master  had 
been  in.  "  Still  no  person  can  persuade  me  that  this  fel- 
low was  not  a  different  man  from  what  he  appeared.  .  .  . 
I  found  him  a  few  days  ago  in  the  dungeon  of  the  tower 
of  yon  Monastery,  thrown  in  there  with  his  mother ; 
both  had  been  captured  by  the  bailiiFs  with  a  band  of 
assassins  ;  the  mother  died  from  the  wounds  she  had  re- 
ceived in  the  scuffle,  and  before  breathing  her  last  she 
gave  to  her  son  a  chain  of  gold,  telling  him  of  a  certain 
story  connected  with  it.  .  .  .  O  !  yes,  I  remember  it  .  .  . 
telling  him  that  she  had  received  it  from  an  inamorato  in 
Pisa.  .  .  .  Yes  .  .  .  hold  on,  Rosso,  before  we  throw 
him  over,  I  want  to  see  whether  he  has  it  still.  The  gold, 
at  least,  might  be  spared  from  the  fish." 

Thus  saying,  he  unbuttoned  the  boy's  jacket,  found  the 
chain,  and  having  taken  it  into  his  hand  he  displayed  it 
before  the  eyes  of  the  Duke,  who  had  paid  great  atten- 
tion to  the  circumstances  narrated  by  Don  Miguel. 

Valentino  could   not  master  his  feelings  so  far  as  to 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  275 

conceal  the  sudden  emotion  produced  in  him  by  that  sight. 
He  remained  for  a  moment  absorbed  in  some  serious 
thought ;  and  his  hands,  which  were  clasped  together, 
holding  the  precious  jewel  hanging  from  his  neck,  fell 
on  his  sides  as  if  bereft  of  all  power.  •  He  resumed  his 
seat,  repeating  with  a  husky  voice  the  command  that  the 
body  should  be  thrown  into  the  water.  He  turned  his 
eyes  another  way,  until  the  splash  of  the  waters  told 
him  that  his  command  had  been  fulfilled  ;  a  spray  from 
that  watery  grave  swept  over  the  boat,  and  over  the 
men  in  it.  Clenching  the  chain  in  his  hands,  he  threw  it 
a  great  distance  into  the  bay,  and  drawing  the  cloak 
around  his  person,  he  leaned  his  head  on  one  hand,  and 
became  silent. 

Don  Miguel  feigning  respect  for  the  thoughts  of  the 
Duke,  withdrew  and  seated  himself  among  the  crew, 
who  went  on  rowing  in  deep  silence ;  no  other  noise  was 
heard  for  the  rest  of  the  passage  but  the  dipping  of  the 
oar-blades,  and  the  dripping  of  the  water.  The  minion 
of  Cesare  Borgia  had  enjoyed  a  revenge  which  no  other 
man,  perhaps,  in  the  world  ever  had  over  the  Duke ;  it 
awoke  in  his  heart  recollections  of  his  past  life,  which 
gave  rise  to  some  feelings  of  remorse  ;  but  it  was  the 
remorse  which,  having  no  balm  with  it,  is  like  the  despair 
of  hell.  It  was  the  pride  of  Don  Miguel's  heart  that  he 
had  been  enabled  to  taste  the  pleasure  of  this  great  re- 
venge. 

After  this  accident,  they  pursued  their  journey  until 
they  reached  the  shallop,  kept  in  waiting  for  the  Duke, 
and  immediately  set  sail  for  the  shores  of  Romagna. 

But  we  must  willingly  take  leave  of  this  gang  of  ri- 
balds. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  departure  of  Ettore  Fieramosca  and  of  his 
friends  from  the  ball,  had  been  noticed  only  by  few  per- 
sons, and  did  not  therefore  interfere  with  the  gaieties  of 
the  occasion.  FanfuUa  left  the  piazza,  where  he  had  the 
interview  with  the  Lady  Elvira,  and  with  great  dispatch 
and  dexterity  restored  Ettore's  cloak  and  cap  to  their 
place,  when  he  returned  to  mingle  in  the  dance  just  as  if 
nothing  had  happened,  chuckling  at  the  trick  he  had 
played  on  his  friend,  and  dying  of  the  wish  to  tell  it. 
The  daughter  of  Gonzalo  kept  a  searching  eye  all  around 
to  discover  Ettore,  wondering  at  his  sudden  disappear- 
ance, and  endeavoring  to  satisfy  herself  as  to  the  cause  of 
it. 

Things  had  continued  thus  for  about  an  hour,  when 
Brancaleone  and  Inigo  entered,  and  inquired  from  the 
first  persons  they  met  where  Gonzalo  was.  They  were 
directed  to  a  part  of  the  hall  where  the  Captain  was  in 
conversation  with  some  of  the  French  barons.  On  ap- 
proaching, they  drew  him  one  side,  and  gave  him  an 
account  of  what  had  happened ;  they  well  knew  that 
Valentino  was  in  the  castle,  and  that  he  was  the  cause  of 
all  the  mischief.  Gonzalo's  advice  was  requested  how 
they  should  act.  The  Captain  believed  the  Duke  to  be 
capable  of  that,  and  even  of  greater  infamies  ;  still  he 
seemed  perplexed  for  an  instant ;  then  he  beckoned  them 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  277 

to  follow  him,  as  he  moved  towards  his  apartment,  and 
seeing  Don  Garcia  in  the  company,  he  bade  him  also  fol- 
low. 

He  did  not  wish  to  acknowledge  that  the  Duke  was  in 
the  castle,  lest  he  might  seem  to  violate  his  pledged  word. 
But  then  reflecting  that  he  had  taken  his  leave  that  same 
day,  and  had  made  arrangements  to  depart  in  the  night, 
he  thought  it  very  strange  that  he  should  have  chosen 
that  very  last  moment  to  commit  such  a  crime.  At  all 
events,  he  determined  to  clear  matters  himself ;  and  hav- 
ing called  for  lights,  he  girded  on  his  sword,  and  led 
the  way  through  a  narrow  corridor  to  some  private  wind- 
ing stairs,  and  unfastening  two  iron  doors  they  descended. 
There  still  remained  another  door  ;  Gonzalo  halted,  and 
whispered  to  his  companions  to  wait  for  him  without 
making  the  least  noise,  and  not  to  move  until  called. 
Then  opening  the  door,  he  entered  the  rooms  of  the 
Duke,  and  found  them  deserted,  without  any  light,  and 
in  the  utmost  confusion  ;  chairs  lying  about,  a  table  upset, 
by  the  bed  a  lamp  extinguished,  and  the  oil  running  on 
the  floor  ;  the  adjoining  rooms  all  empty.  Having  then 
called  his  attendants,  and  thus  remained  for  a  few  mo- 
ments undecided  and  deliberating  with  himself,  he  said  at 
last :  — 

"  Were  I  to  keep  faith  with  this  ribald,  I  might  en- 
danger the  safety  of  the  innocent.  Know  ye  then,  the 
Duke  has  lived  in  these  rooms  for  several  days  past. 
He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  leave  this  evening  or  to- 
morrow ;  further  I  cannot  say,  because  I  know  nothing 
more.  "We  are  well  satisfied  that  he  is  capable  of  any 
debauchery  ;  perhaps  he  is  the  author  of  even  this.  Act 
then  as  you  think  best ;  pursue  him  if  you  choose ;  you 
have  my  full  consent ;  and  you,  Don  Garcia,  give  them 
whatever  aid  may  be  needed." 


278  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

Inigo  thought  at  once  that  the  Duke's  vessel  might 
perhaps  be  yet  seen  from  the  window ;  but  as  he  could 
not  see  distinctly  through  the  thick  glass,  and  as  it  would 
have  taken  too  long  to  unbolt  those  huge  frames,  he  ran 
to  the  small  door  which  opened  over  the  narrow  strip 
of  beach,  a  spot  he  was  well  acquainted  with,  and  going 
out  he  saw  the  small  boat,  and  in  it  lying  a  young 
woman  whom  he  did  not  know,  but  who  at  once  he 
thought  might  be  Ginevra. 

His  companions,  being  called  to  the  spot  in  great  haste, 
were  at  a  loss  what  to  think,  on  seeing  her  so  abandoned 
and  in  that  miserable  plight.  With  the  most  gentle  care 
they  carried  her  to  a  bed  in  the  Duke's  rooms,  which  was 
arranged  by  them  in  the  best  way  they  knew.  Gonzalo 
felt  to  his  heart  the  wretched  situation  of  the  female,  and 
hastened  up  stairs  to  place  her  in  care  of  some  woman. 
But,  being  yet  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  circumstances 
of  the  event,  and  feeling  anxious  that  it  should  not  then 
become  known,  he  thought  of  Vittoria  Colonna,  on  whose 
well-tried  prudence  he  could  rely.  He  entered  the 
dancing  halls,  and  meeting  the  daughter  of  Fabricio,  he 
led  her  quietly  to  Ginevra's  bed,  informing  her  on  the 
way  of  what  had  transpired,  and  how  needful  would  her 
comforts  be  to  the  unfortunate  woman  who  was  unknown 
to  all.  The  generous  and  affectionate  heart  of  Vittoria 
accepted  the  trust  with  zeal  and  gratitude.  She  ap- 
proached the  bed  of  the  female,  and  gazed  in  her  face 
for  an  instant,  then  arranged  the  bed  more  comfortably, 
placed  the  pillow  so  as  to  afford  more  relief  to  her  aching 
head  and  throbbing  temples,  and  fulfilled  in  a  perfect 
manner  the  gentle  duties  of  nurse,  combining  as  they  do 
that  mingled  sagacity  and  tenderness  which  is  the"  choice 
talent  bestowed  by  Providence  on  woman,  when  she  was 
appointed  to  minister  to  the  afflicted. 


ETTORE    FTERAMOSCA.  270 

Ginevra  was  then  in  a  state  of  lethargy,  into  which 
she  had  been  thrown  by  so  ranch  suffering  and  mental 
anguish  ;  she  could  not  be  called  senseless,  nor  had  she 
the  use  of  her  mind  ;  she  offered  not  the  least  resistance, 
and  allowed  those  around  her  to  move  her  arms,  or  her 
head  from  one  position  to  another ;  her  eyes  were  open 
in  their  natural  way,  but  they  were  dull,  unmeaning,  and 
vaguely  rolling  from  place  to  place.  Vittoria  well  knew 
that  this  state,  the  less  violent  it  appeared,  was  the  more 
to  be  dreaded  ;  she  knew  that  there  was  no  time  to 
lose,  and  having  therefore  requested  the  men  to  with- 
draw, she  ordered  some  of  her  women  to  bring  cordials 
and  spirits,  and  with  them  they  succeeded  in  bringing 
back  a  life  which  seemed  to  be  fast  ebbing  away. 

The  first  sign  of  returning  consciousness  was  to  look 
around  with  an  expression  of  extreme  terror,  and  then 
start  up  and  throw  herself  out  of  her  bed,  in  a  vain 
attempt  to  run  away ;  but  she  was  so  weak  that  she 
would  have  fallen  on  the  floor,  had  not  Vittoria  opened 
her  arms,  and  with  gentle  violence  made  her  lie  down 
again. 

"  Oh  God !  "  then  said  Ginevra,  "  are  you  also  in 
league  with  him  ?  and  still  you  appear  to  be  a  gentle- 
woman. You  are  young  and  handsome,  and  will  you  not 
have  compassion  on  me  ?  " 

"  Not  only  that,"  answered  Vittoria,  taking  Ginevra's 
hands  and  raising  them  to  her  lips,  "  but  we  are  here, 
and  every  one  of  the  castle  are  at  your  service,  to  help 
you  and  to  protect  you  ;  but  calm  yourself  for  heaven's 
sake  ;  you  have  nothing  to  fear  now." 

"  Well,  then,  if  it  is  so,"  replied  Ginevra,  again  throw- 
ing her  feet  out  of  the  bed,  "  let  me  go  ;  let  me  go." 

Vittoria  imagined  that  this  great  desire  of  being  taken 


280  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

away  from  that  place  might  proceed  from  aberration  of 
mind,  and  perceiving  her  gi'eat  weakness  and  the  change 
in  her  features,  endeavored  with  kind  words  to  persuade 
her  to  have  a  little  patience  ;  but  the  horror  she  had  for 
the  place  had  become  a  madness,  growing  in  its  fury  the 
more  it  was  resisted.  She  continued  to  act  frantically, 
and  cried  while  saying :  — 

"  Lady  !  for  the  love  of  God,  and  for  the  love  of  Our 
Blessed  Mother,  only  one  favor  I  ask :  —  take  me  away 
from  this  bed  ;  throw  me  into  the  sea ;  into  the  fire  ;  — 
but  take  me  away  from  this  bed.  I  shall  not.  give  you 
much  trouble.  ...  A  draught  of  water.  ...  I  am  burn- 
ing ;  .  .  .  and  let  me  say  a  few  words  to  Fra  Mariano 
of  San  Dominico  here  by.  .  .  .  But  let  me  go  from  here. 
.  .  .  Let  me  go.  .  .  ." 

And  saying  thus,  she  again  started  up,  meeting  no  more 
objections  from  Vittoria,  who  saw  it  was  useless  to  offer 
resistance.  With  the  help  of  the  attending  women,  she 
carried  Ginevra  up  stairs,  and  lodged  her  in  an  out-of- 
the-way  room,  where  Gonzalo  had  ordered  a  couch  to  be 
prepared  for  the  purpose.  Then  as  she  was  undressed, 
and  had  entered  the  bed,  she  gave  a  deep  sigh,  and  said : 

"  Signora !  God  sees  everything ;  and  he  sees  how  fer- 
vently my  heart  prays  that  you  may  be  rewarded  for  the 
good  you  are  doing  to  me.  O  my  mother !  Holy  Virgin, 
accept  my  thanks  !  And  you,  my  lady,  you  alone  will 
have  the  merit  of  my  not  dying  in  despair.  .  .  .  Only  I 
beseech  you,  hurry  a  message  to  Fra  Mariano.  .  .  . 
Tell  me  what  time  it  is  ?  day  or  night  ?  I  know  no  more 
in  what  world  I  am." 

"  It  is  five  of  the  clock  in  the  night,"  answered  Vit- 
toria, "  and  Fra  Mariano  shall  be  sent  for ;  but  the  fright 
you  have  had  makes  you  fear  more  than  there  need  be ; 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  281 

calm  yourself,  take  some  rest,  my  dear  young  woman  ; 
here  you  are  in  a  safe  place  ;  I  will  not  leave  you.  .  .  ." 

"  Oh,  no  !  do  not  leave  me !  If  you  only  knew  what 
comfort  those  compassionating  eyes  of  yours  give  to  my 
heart  when  you  look  at  me !  Sit  down  here  on  my 
couch ;  there,  I  have  made  room  for  you ;  ...  no,  no, 
don't  fear  to  put  me  to  any  inconvenience ;  indeed,  I  feel 
more  comfortable  in  this  position.  .  .  ."  Thus  remaining 
for  a  while  in  a  kind  of  stupor,  she  shuddered  again,  and 
apparently  wandering,  she  would  say :  "  If  you  knew  what 
horrors !  To  be  bui-ied  alive  ;  ...  to  be  smothered  under 
a  heap  of  dead  bodies  !  to  see  before  you  those  cadaver- 
ous faces,  sunk  by  death  and  doomed  to  corruption,  star- 
ing at  you,  and  gr  .  .  .  grin  !  .  .  .  God !  I  feel  as  if  I  was 
there  now  !  .  .  ." 

And  uttering  these  words,  she  clung  to  her  protectress, 
who  very  justly  thinking  that  it  would  be  useless  to 
attempt  to  reason  while  those  wanderings  of  mind  con- 
tinued, pressed  her  close  to  her  arms,  and  endeavored  to 
sooth  and  quiet  her. 

"  O  Mia  Signora ! "  Ginevra  continued,  hiding  her 
head  in  her  friend's  bosom,  "  I  do  not  know  what  I  am 
saying.  I  only  know  I  am  talking  nonsense ;  but  I 
have  been  too  vilely  treated,  —  too  much  so  !  .  .  .  and  I 
did  not  deserve  it !  "What  had  I  done  to  him,  that  he 
should  insult  me  so?  .  .  .  And  in  yon  chapel  I  felt  sure 
that  I  would  succeed,  and  reach  the  place  in  safety ! 
...  I  prayed  so  fervently  !  .  .  .  Ah  !  but  I  have  been 
a  wretched  sinner  !  ,  .  .  more  unfortunate  than  sinful ; 
oh  !  yes,  yes,  —  much  more  unfortunate  !  Because  my 
heart.  ...  I  know  it,  and  I  know  how  I  felt.  .  .  ." 

"  Yes,  dear  friend  ;  yes,  I  believe  it,"  answered  Vitto- 
ria ;  "  but  calm   yourself,  and  do  not  say  that  God  has 


282  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

abandoned  you  ;  see,  He  has  sent  me  to  dry  your  tears, 
and  sooth  your  sufferings.  See,  I  am  here  with  you  ;  I 
will  not  leave  you  ;  and  if  it  be  any  satisfaction  to  you, 
fear  not,  I  shall  not  abandon  you.  But  if,  in  your  mis- 
fortune, you  need  help  of  different  nature  ;  if  punishment 
has  to  be  bestowed  on  any  one  who  has  insulted  you  ;  if 
there  exists  some  evil  that  requires  remedy,  let  me  know 
.  .  .  trust  me  .  .  .  Fabricio  Colonna,  my  father  .  .  . 
Gonzalo  ;  ...  in  a  word,  all  offer  themselves  to  you.  .  .  ." 

"  Ah,  Mia  Signora !  "  Ginevra  replied,  "  the  whole 
world,  were  it  to  combine  together,  could  not  afford  me 
the  means  of  enjoying  one  moment  of  happiness ;  nor 
could  they  take  one  drop  from  the  cup  of  my  sorrow! 
It  is  all  over  with  me  here  below.  .  .  .  But  I  thank  you ! 
oh,  I  thank  you  ;  because  you  have  afforded  me  the  last 
relief;  .  .  .  and,  therefore,  do  not  call  me  ungrateful, 
because  I  do  not  tell  you  my  sad  adventures  ;  it  is  im- 
possible ;  they  cannot  be  told  ;  and  if  I  do  not  accept 
your  offers,  .  .  .  may  God  reward  you.  .  .  .  He  can  do 
it !  ...  I  can  only  thgnk  you,  .  .  .  and  kiss  those 
blessed  hands  which  will  support  my  head  in  my  last 
hour,  and  will  close  my  eyes.  .  .  .  Pledge  yourself  that 
you  will  not  leave  me  until  I  shall  be  entirely  cold." 

Vittoria  wished  to  drive  away  these  ideas  by  trying 
to  persuade  her  that  there  was  no  danger  of  death,  but 
Ginevra  would  not  allow  her  to  speak. 

"  No,  no,  my  lady ;  it  is  out  of  the  question  ;  I  know 
to  what  state  I  have  been  brought ;  I  know  how  I  feel ; 
...  do  not  refuse  me  this  request,  angel  of  benedic- 
tions !  Is  it  not  so  ?  You  will  not  deny  it  ?  There, 
you  see,  I  take  advantage  of  your  good  will ;  you  cannot 
say  that  I  am  either  proud  or  ungrateful.  .  .  .  Will  you 
then  promise  it  to  me  ?  " 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  283 

*'  Yes  ;  yes,  dear  ;  I  promise  it  to  you,  should  there  be 
need  of  it." 

"  Oh !  now  I  feel  more  at  ease.  Now  give  orders  to 
call  Fra  Mariano,  and  then  it  will  be  over  with  me  in  this 
world.  .  .  .  But  give  me  once  more  a  little  water ;  I  feel 
as  if  I  had  burning  coals  in  my  heart.  .  .  .  Could  you 
remove  that  light  ?  it  dazzles  my  eyes.  Please  to  pardon 
so  much  trouble ;  it  will  not  last  long." 

Vittoria  having  performed  these  little  acts  of  kindness, 
sat  again  on  the  narrow  bed,  and  in  a  few  moments, 
Inigo,  who  had  gone  for  Fra  Mariano,  and  had  roused 
him,  appeared  at  the  door,  asking  whether  he  could 
introduce  him ;  and  Ginevi-a  said :  "  Let  him  come,  let 
him  come." 

A  monk,  of  tall  person,  noble  bearing,  his  pale  and 
modest  countenance  slightly  shaded  by  the  hood,  then 
entered  the  room,  and  approached  the  couch,  saying: 
"  Jesus  Christ  be  with  you,  lady."  All  left,  and  he  re- 
mained alone  with  the  sick. 

It  was  at  the  very  first  sight  evident  that  all  human 
feelings  and  worldly  pursuits  had  been  long  trampled 
under  foot  by  that  religious  man,  whose  noble  presence 
and  dignified  manners  were  the  index  of  a  noble  charity, 
which  is  the  effect  of  an  appreciation  of  the  august  and 
divine  mission  of  administering  comfort  and  relief  to 
fellow-creatures  in  distress. 

His  early  life  was  shrouded  in  mystery  to  the  people  of 
Barletta,  and  even  of  the  inmates  of  the  convent  of  San 
Dominico ;  and  although  he  occupied  no  place  of  distinc- 
tion in  the  order,  he  was  surrounded  by  a  halo  of  rever- 
ence, which  was  the  result  of  his  exemplary  life,  his  great 
learning,  and  of  a  belief  that  he  was  the  victim  of  perse- 
cution.    There  was  a  report,  that  when  a  layman  he  was 


284  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

one  of  the  first  citizens  of  Florence,  of  the  party  of  the 
Piagnoni,  which  was  under  the  lead  of  Fra  Girolamo 
Savonarola ;  and  that  when  conquered  by  the  appeals  of 
that  terrible  preacher,  he  had  given  up  the  world,  and  re- 
ceived at  his  hands  the  Dominican  habit  in  San  Marco. 
Other  more  obscure  reports  were  mixed  up  with  these 
facts,  which  every  one  believed  as  true,  —  that,  to  give  him- 
self up  to  God,  he  had  broken  ties  of  the  heart,  —  that  the 
sudden  change  had  been  the  occasion  of  great  scandal,  of 
great  anger,  and  of  vengeance,  on  the  part  of  the  neg- 
lected woman,  —  that  through  her  influence  he  had  been 
involved  in  the  persecution  raised  against  Savonarola ; 
after  the  death  of  the  latter,  he  had  with  great  difficulty 
saved  himself,  his  superior  sending  him  off  in  disguise 
and  under  an  assumed  name,  to  the  Convent  of  Barletta, 
where,  on  account  of  its  seclusion  and  out-of-the-way 
situation,  he  lived  unknown  and  undisturbed. 

These  were  the  reports  about  him.  But  the  keenest 
malevolence  could  not  point  to  the  smallest  blemish  in  his 
life.  The  severe  doctrines  of  Savonarola  had  found  in 
his  heart  a  soil  well  prepared  to  receive  the  seed,  and 
helped  by  his  nature,  which  would  sacrifice  every  thing 
before  the  altar  of  truth,  had  borne  the  fruits  of  charity 
and  fervid  zeal. 

The  whole  party  of  the  Piagnoni  had  become  extin- 
guished with  the  last  flicker  of  the  expiring  flames  of  the 
fire  on  which  Savonarola  had  been  consumed.  Clem- 
ent VII.  had  frightened  into  silence  those  who  were  loud 
in  their  censures  on  the  abuses  of  the  Medicean  court. 
Fra  Mariano,  not  having  been  chosen  to  die  for  the  sake 
of  truth,  lived  happy  in  his  retreat ;  he  rejoiced  in  being 
spared  the  grief  of  being  an  idle  witness  of  evils  against 
which  he  could  not  raise  his  voice. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSGA.  285 

He  took  a  seat  by  the  head  of  Ginevra's  bed,  and  hav- 
ing blessed  her,  he  asked  whether  she  wished  to  make 
her  confession. 

"  Yes,  Father,  yes  !  I  have  no  other  desire  in  this  hfe  ; 
and  had  I  not  fek  that  my  strength  and  my  life  are  rap- 
idly failing,  I  would  not  have  put  you  to  so  much  trouble 
at  this  hour  of  night ;  my  trials  will  not  be  very  long  ;  let 
us  therefore  lose  no  time,  and  help  me  to  die  in  the  grace 
of  my  God,  and  of  our  holy  Roman  Church." 

"  Life  and  death,"  said  Fra  Mariano,  "  are  in  the  hands 
of  God,  and  it  will  happen  even  as  He  wishes  ;  do 
whatever  lies  in  your  power,  and  be  assured  He  will  not 
refuse  his  aid  to  you." 

Having  made  the  sign  of  the  Cross,  and  recited  the 
prayers  prescribed  for  the  occasion,  he  said  to  the  woman, 
"  Now  begin." 

To  unbosom  her  heart  without  reserve,  she  was  obliged 
to  give  an  account  of  her  life  from  the  very  beginning; 
her  ill-assorted  marriage,  the  supposed  death  of  her  hus- 
band, and  her  wanderings  from  place  to  place.  Her  nar- 
rative was  often  interrupted  by  failing  of  strength,  and 
at  times  it  was  somewhat  incoherent,  her  mind  not  be- 
ing equal  to  the  painful  task. 

"  Father  !  I  have  been  for  many  years,  it  is  true,  near 
him  who  was  not  my  husband,  but  my  only  fault  has  been 
to  expose  myself  to  the  danger  of  doing  evil ;  only  God 
in  his  goodness  has  preserved  me  from  it.  I  have  been 
remiss  in  my  endeavors  to  find  my  husband,  and  to  ascer- 
tain whether  he  was  really  dead  .  .  .  but  at  last  I  was  told 
of  his  being  alive,  and  of  the  place  where  he  was,  and  I 
immediately  resolved  to  join  him  .  .  .  and  started  for  this 
purpose  .  .  .  and  I  had  great  trust  in  God  that  I  should 
succeed  .  .  .  but  O  God,  whom  did  I  meet  ?  .  .  .  " 


286  ETTOEE  FIERAMOSCA. 

And  here  she  narrated  how,  in  approaching  the  citadel, 
she  had  seen  the  close  interview  between  him  whom  she 
supposed  to  be  Ettore  and  Elvira,  the  sight  of  which 
overwhelmed  her,  so  that  she  had  fallen  senseless  to  the 
bottom  of  the  boat,  and  recovered  only  to  find  herself 
in  Valentino's  room ;  and  going  through  all  the  particu- 
lars of  the  cruel  insults  and  outrages  suffered  at  the 
hands  of  the  Duke,  she  burst  into  tears,  with  fits  of 
convulsions  and  despair,  —  giving  utterance  to  discon- 
nected expressions,  which  manifested  too  plainly  an  in- 
cipient aberration  of  mind. 

The  good  Friar  was  touched  to  the  heart,  and  with 
that  prudence  which  the  importance  of  the  case  required, 
employed  all  the  means  he  could  command  to  calm  her, 
and  only  partially  succeeded  after  a  long  time,  when  na- 
ture, being  overpowered,  gave  way  to  a  paroxysm,  which 
left  the  miserable  woman  a  great  deal  more  exhausted. 

"  Father !  "  continued  Ginevra  in  a  fainter  voice,  "  is 
it  then  possible  that  God  and  our  Blessed  Lady  have 
cursed  my  sorrow,  and  rejected  my  tears  ?  God's  ven- 
geance has  burst  on  my  head  like  a  thunderclap,  just 
when  I  felt  I  could  hope  for  mercy  .  .  .  the  punishment 
of  my  sins  has  already  been  terrible  .  .  .  but  I  still  fear 
a  worse  one  ...  I  feel  that  I  shall  die  unpardoned  .  .  . 
I  feel  that  God  has  hardened  my  heart  at  these  last  mo- 
ments ...  I  am  soon  to  depart,  but  I  can  neither  forget 
that  man  .  .  .  nor  pardon  that  woman  .  .  .  Oh,  pray 
for  me  !  help  me  !  as  long  as  there  is  a  chance,  speak  to 
me  words  of  hope  ..." 

"  Of  hope  ?  "  answered  the  Friar.  "  Do  you  not  know 
that  the  God  who  sends  me  to  you  is  the  same  God  who 
purchased  your  salvation  with  his  death  on  the  cross,  and 
pledges  his  mercy  to  you,  and  pledges  it  even  if  you  were 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  287 

laden  with  the  sins  of  the  whole  world,  unless,  however, 
by  despairing  of  pardon,  you  should  offer  insult  to  his 
love  ?  And  what  does  he  ask  of  you  to  deserve  that  par- 
don, and  to  deserve  that  crown  of  glory  and  that  joy 
which  shall  never  end  ?  He  only  requests  you  to  love 
him  as  he  has  loved  you  ;  only  to  suffer  a  little  for  his 
sake,  as  he  has  suffered,  and  so  much  more  for  yours  ; 
to  forgive  those  who  have  injured  you,  just  as  he  has  for- 
given those  who  have  lavished  upon  him  insults,  outrages, 
torments,  and  death:  Behold!  He  is  there  in  heaven 
waiting  for  you,  and  He  is  anxious  to  receive  you  into 
his  open  arms,  to  dry  your  tears,  and  turn  your  grief  into 
a  joy  that  will  never  fail.  The  enemy,  who  counted  upon 
you  as  a  sure  prey,  cannot  bear  that  you  should  escape 
from  his  hands ;  he  is  trying  every  way  to  reconquer 
you  ;  he  endeavors  to  take  away  from  you  all  hopes  ;  but 
he  shall  not  succeed.  I,  the  minister  of  God  Eternal "  — 
here  he  rose  to  his  full  height,  spreading  his  hands  over 
Ginevra  with  solemn  authority  —  "I  swear  to  you  by  His 
holy  name,  that  both  your  pardon  and  your  eternal  salva- 
tion are  already  signed  in  the  eternal  records,  if  only  with 
an  act  of  love  you  know  how  to  purchase  an  eternal  re- 
ward. May  the  divine  blood  of  the  Son  of  God  descend 
upon  your  soul  like  the  dew  from  heaven  ;  may  it  wash 
every  stain  from  it ;  may  it  pour  peace  and  joy  into  it, 
and  may  it  obtain  for  you  a  keen  sorrow  for  having  of- 
fended Him  who  shed  it  for  your  sake  ;  may  it  give  you 
strength  and  energy  to  repel  and  contemn  the  attacks  of 
the  enemy  who  thirsts  after  your  ruin." 

"  Oh  !  my  Father ! "  replied  Ginevra,  who  was  over- 
whelmed with  veneration  for  the  words  she  had  just 
heard,  "  God  speaks  through  your  lips ;  then  I  can  still 
hope,  and  I  am  not  forsaken  forever ! " 


288  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

"  No,  you  are  not,  blessed  soul !  on  the  contrary,  the 
more  severe  the  struggle  is  now,  the  nobler  will  your  tri- 
umph be.  But  now  that  God  grants  you  grace  and  op- 
portunity to  know  your  faults  and  appreciate  his  mercies, 
think  not  of  turning  back,  but  remember  what  he  says : 
better  for  them  not  to  have  known  the  ways  of  righteous- 
ness, than  to  shiink  after  having  known  them.  No  man 
putting  his  hand  to  the  plough  and  looking  hack  is  fit  for 
the  kingdom  of  God.  You  cannot  banish  the  recollection 
of  that  man  from  your  heart  ?  Now  see  where  you  had 
placed  your  hopes !  from  whom  you  expected  comfort 
and  joy !  See  for  whose  sake  you  have  contemned  the 
love  of  your  God !  For  the  sake  of  a  man  who  could 
not  even  keep  a  word,  however  culpable  and  profane, 
which  he  had  pledged  to  you ;  for  the  sake  of  one  who, 
at  the  fii'st  breath  of  wind,  turned  from  you,  without  even 
caring  for  you.  Thus  does  the  world  keep  its  faith  ;  and 
still  to  follow  this  world,  you  contemn  the  infallible  prom- 
ises of  the  Eternal !  And  when  he  makes  you  aware  of 
the  vanity  and  folly  of  your  desires,  you  almost  grow 
angry,  instead  of  bowing  to  the  very  earth  before  such  a 
miracle  of  goodness  !  You  cannot  pardon  that  woman  ? 
and  in  what  has  she  offended  you  ?  In  the  first  place, 
she  does  not  even  know  you ;  then  she  is  a  free  maiden, 
and  she  can  entertain  such  thoughts  without  criminality. 
Oh  !  you  should  rather  love  her,  and  respect  the  instru- 
ment emplo}'ed  by  the  hand  of  the  Lord  to  work  out 
your  salvation  !  I  am  a  sinner  too,  and  have  been  such, 
and  have  been  so  unfortunate  and  foolish  as  to  seek  peace 
of  heart  in  human  affection.  But  God  has  called  me ;  I 
obeyed  the  summons  at  first  with  bitterness ;  but  then, 
oh  !  what  a  great  reward  has  God  allowed  to  me  for  the 
small  sacrifice !     What  a  calm  joy  to  love  and  be  sure 


ETTORE   FIEKAMOSCA.  289 

that  you  are  requited  by  an  infinite,  immense  correspond- 
ence of  feeling  !  Oh  !  believe  me,  soul  of  benedictions  ! 
me  who  am  a  man,  and  a  greater  offender  than  I  believe 
you  have  ever  been,  I  have  gone  through  all  those  trials  ; 
all  is  gall,  uncertainty,  and  darkness,  except  in  loving 
and  serving  God,  and  hoping  in  his  mercies." 

Here  Ginevra  interrupted  him,  and  burst  into  tears  : 
"  Oh  !  yes,  you  have  opened  my  mind,  and  you  have 
overcome  me ;  yes,  I  pardon,  and  with  my  whole  heart 
I  do  pardon  ;  and  I  will  give  proofs  of  my  sincerity. 
Let  her  come ;  I  wish  to  see  and  embrace  her  before  I 
die  ;  and  may  they  live  happy,  even  as  I  hope  that  God 
will  have  mercy  on  me  in  the  life  to  come." 

The  good  friar  fell  on  his  knees  by  the  couch,  and 
raising  his  eyes  and  hands  to  heaven,  he  said :  "  Variis 
et  miris  modis  vocal  nos  Deus  !  *  let  us  adore  the  work 
of  His  mercy." 

Having  thus  remained  a  few  moments  in  prayer,  he 
arose,  blessed,  and  shrove  the  woman,  and  then  added  : 

"  Then  you  are  really  determined  to  see  her,  and  do 
this  work  of  grace  ?  " 

"•  Yes,  father,  send  for  her ;  I  feel  the  necessity  of 
breathing  my  last  in  the  act  of  pardoning." 

"  And  God,  I  say  it  in  his  name,  has  also  pardoned 
you  ;  you  belong  to  him  ;  this  holy  resolution  of  yours  is 
the  mark  of  your  salvation." 

The  friar  was  starting  to  send  for  the  Lady  Elvira  when 
Ginevra  recalled  him. 

"  I  have  one  request  to  make  of  you,  and  you  must 

not  refuse  it,  if  you  wish  me  to  die  in  peace.    When  I  am 

dead,  go  to  the  French  camp,  find  out  ray  husband,  (his 

name  among  the  men-at-arms  is  Graiano  d'Asti,  and  he  is 

*  In  various  and  wonderful  ways  God  calls  us. 
13 


290  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

in  the  service  of  the  Duke  of  Nemours,)  and  tell  him  that 
in  my  last  hour  I  have  sought  God's  pardon,  and  I  beg  of 
him  also  to  pardon  me  if  I  have  offended  him.  Tell  him 
that  on  my  death  I  make  oath  that  my  soul  is  as  pure  on 
my  going  out  of  this  world  as  it  was  when  he  received 
me  from  my  father.  Entreat  him  not  to  curse  my  mem- 
ory, and  to  have  a  mass  offered  for  the  repose  of  my  soul." 

"  God  bless  you  !  ....  Be  tranquil ;  your  wish  shall  be 
fulfilled." 

"  Another  favor  I  would  request  of  you,"  resumed  Gin- 
evra  ;  "  I  do  not  know  whether  it  would  be  right  or  wrong ; 
but  God,  who  sees  the  interior  of  my  soul,  knows  that  I 

do  it  from  good  motives I  wish  you  would  inquire 

also  after  him  ....  I  mean  Ettore  Fieramosca,  who  is  a 
lancer  in  the  bands  of  Signor  Prospero  ....  tell  him 
that  I  will  pray  for  him  —  that  I  pardon  him  ....  that 
is  ...  .  no,  say  nothing  about  pardon  ....  after  all,  I  am 
not  perfectly  sure  ....  it  might  have  been  some  one  else 
who  looked  like  him  ....  no,  no  ...  .  tell  him  only  to 
take  care  of  his  soul  ....  that  now  I  know  how  we  were 
both  acting  wrong  ....  that  he  must  think  of  a  future 
life  ....  that  this  vanishes  away  like  a  mist,  and  it  is 
myself  who  tells  him  so,  as  I  feel  the  reality  of  it,  and  I 
feel  ....  1  mean  ....  I  mean  to  say  I  wish  him  true 
happiness.  And  tell  him  also  that  if  God,  as  I  hope, 
will  receive  me  in  his  goodness,  I  shall  pray  for  him  that 
he  may  gain  the  day,  and  the  honor  of  the  ItaUan  arms 
be  safe  in  his  hands." 

Fra  Mariano  gave  a  sigh  and  said :  "  This  also  I  shall 
do." 

The  dying  woman  remained  silent  for  an  instant,  and 
thought  of  Zorais,  her  protegee,  with  whom  she  had  been 
at  variance  for  the  last  few  days.     She  entreated  the 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  291 

friar  to  see  her  in  the  Monastery  of  Sant'  Orsola,  and  to 
carry  to  her  a  bracelet  with  her  parting  farewell,  request- 
ing her  to  wear  it  for  her  sake.  She  recommended  the 
poor  forlorn  girl  to  him,  that  he  might  find  her  an  honor- 
able shelter,  and  above  all  that  he  would  endeavor  to 
make  a  Christian  of  her.     Then  she  continued  : 

"  A  last  charity  I  beg  of  you  ;  and  I  am  sure  you  will 
grant  it.  Have  me  interred  in  the  subterranean  chapel 
of  Sant'  Orsola,  dressed  in  the  habit  of  the  Monastery. 
It  is  a  great  consolation  to  me  to  think  that  I  shall  rest 
near  the  shrine  of  Our  Lady,  who  has  at  last  granted  my 
prayer,  and  put  an  end  to  my  misery." 

''  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Fra  Mariano,  scarcely  able  to 
control  his  tears,  "  I  shall  fulfil  your  wishes  in  every 
thing." 

Having  said  this,  he  went  out  and  called  Vittoria  Co- 
lonna,  to  whom  he  addressed  himself,  lest  Ginevra,  whose 
strength  was  fast  failing,  should  be  fatigued  by  too  much 
speaking,  and  said : 

"  Lady  !  please  to  see  the  Lady  Elvira,  and  bring  her 
here  ;  this  suffering  young  woman  wishes  to  speak  to  her." 

Vittoria  was  taken  entirely  by  surprise,  and  hesitated 
for  a  moment,  still  she  moved  away  without  making  any 
reply,  when  Ginevra  said :  "  I  hope  she  will  pardon  me 
for  this  trouble,  but  there  is  no  time  to  lose." 

It  was  then  after  five  o'clock,  and  the  dance  had  been 
brought  to  an  end  a  few  moments  before ;  the  halls  were 
becoming  deserted  ;  the  guests  were  descending  the  stairs 
escorted  by  the  barons  of  the  Spanish  army. 

Gonzalo  had  just  parted  with  the  Duke  of  Nemours 
and  his  knights,  who  had  taken  to  their  horses,  and  were 
on  their  way  towards  the  French  camp,  preceded  by 
many  blazing  torches. 


292  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

The  yard  was  swarming  with  people  on  foot  and  on 
horseback ;  it  was  a  tumult  that  reechoed  all  over  the 
castle.  The  women  sat  on  the  horses  behind  the  gen- 
tlemen of  their  party,  after  the  custom  of  that  age,  and 
thus  both  the  crowd  and  the  noise  were  diminisliing,  leav- 
ing the  yard  in  a  short  time  deserted,  except  by  a  few  ser- 
vants who  crossed  to  and  fro  in  the  performance  of  their 
different  duties.  The  opening  and  closing  of  doors  might 
be  heard,  and  lights  appeared  and  disappeared  in  the  bal- 
cony and  through  the  halls ;  and  when  at  last  the  clock 
struck  the  hour  of  six,  the  men  on  guard  at  the  entrance- 
gate  raised  the  bridge  which  led  to  the  square,  and  the 
strident  noise  of  its  heavy  chains  had  ceased,  a  dead 
silence,  no  more  interrupted  that  night,  reigned  all  over 
the  place. 

By  this  time  Vittoria  had  traversed  the  hall,  where  the 
menials  were  putting  out  the  lights  and  arranging  the 
furniture,  and  reached  the  rooms  to  which  the  Lady  El- 
vira had  retired,  and  where  she  was  then  taking  off  her 
jewels  and  ornaments.  She  found  her  thus  employed, 
and  attended  by  two  maids,  who,  by  her  manners,  did  not 
appear  to  satisfy  her ;  she  was  flurried,  her  cheeks  very 
red,  and  one  might  judge  that  she  was  far  from  being 
pleased  with  the  evening.  When  she  saw  Vittoria,  an 
innate  sense,  springing  perhaps  from  a  hidden  remorse, 
made  her  think  that  her  friend  had  come  for  the  purpose 
of  speaking  to  her  on  a  subject  which  she  did  not  like  to 
hear  mentioned  at  that  moment.  Hence  she  could  not 
well  conceal  a  movement  of  surprise  which  betrayed 
some  slight  impatience.  Vittoria  perceived  it,  but  seemed 
not  to  notice  it,  and  with  great  sweetness  requested  her 
to  delay  her  retiring  to  rest  for  a  few  minutes,  and  to  ac- 
company her  to  see  Ginevra.     She  was  obliged,  there- 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  293 

fore,  to  give  her  friend  a  brief  account  of  how  the  dying 
woman  happened  to  be  in  the  castle ;  and  Gonzalo's 
daughter,  who,  with  a  wild  brain,  had  also  a  good  heart, 
was  happy  in  granting  the  request,  the  more  so  as  she 
saw  things  taking  a  better  turn  than  she  expected. 

They  entered  Ginevra's  room  together,  and  soon  were 
at  her  bedside.  The  beauty  of  Lady  Elvira  did  not  ap- 
pear to  so  much  advantage  when  her  hair  had  been 
arranged  with  the  greatest  skill,  as  it  did  now  when  it 
was  flowing  in  disorder,  waving  over  her  neck  and  shin- 
ing in  long  tresses  of  golden  color.  Fra  Mariano  mod- 
estly withdrew  to  one  side,  and  poor  Ginevra  felt  an 
inward  shudder,  and  gave  a  sigh,  to  which  the  com- 
passion of  the  good  friar's  heart  responded.  Thus  re- 
mained the  three  women  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes, 
when  Ginevra,  raising  herself  on  her  elbow,  said  : 

"  Signora !  you  certainly  wonder  how  I  should  have 
dared  to  trespass  upon  you,  as  I  am  a  stranger  to  you, 
and  you  to  me ;  but  every  allowance  is  made  to  one  at 
this  pass.  Before,  however,  I  speak  to  you  more  openly, 
I  must  obtain  your  leave  to  do  so ;  can  I  address  a  few 
words  to  you  with  freedom  ?  Whatever  answer  you  may 
give  me,  it  will,  within  a  few  moments,  be  forever  buried 
in  the  grave ;  but  may  I  speak  in  the  presence  of  this 
lady,  or  do  you  prefer  that  we  were  alone  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  answered  the  Lady  Elvira,  "  this  is  the  dear- 
est friend  I  have,  and  she  loves  me  even  more  than  I 
deserve ;  so  say  whatever  you  wish,  my  dear  lady,  be- 
cause I  am  here  to  listen  to  you." 

"  If  it  is  so,  then,  and  by  your  leave,  I  will  request  you 
to  answer  me  only  one  question." 

But  as  she  came  to  this,  as  it  were  to  summon  strength, 
and  to  lead  the  way  to  the  question  which  she  did  not 


294  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

know  how  to  put  in  words,  she  remahied  silent  for  a  mo- 
ment. The  resolution  of  pardoning  the  one  who  had  been 
the  occasion  of  her  desperate  grief,  had  been  made  in 
great  sincerity ;  but  none  will  be  found  so  severe  as  to 
charge  her  with  sin,  because  the  devoted  woman,  at  the 
moment  she  was  to  become  certain  that  her  eyes  had  not 
deceived  her,  and  that  the  youth  at  the  feet  of  the  Lady 
Elvira  was  actually  Ettore,  felt  an  invincible  reluctance  to 
obtain  this  certainty.  Where  can  the  heart  be  found  that 
could  blame  her  for  nurturing  a  vague  hope  that  she  had 
been  deceived,  and  that  Ettore  was  after  all  the  same  as 
ever  ? 

However,  be  that  as  it  may,  our  opinion  is  that  those 
feelings  were  not  entirely  overcome,  and  hence  arose  the 
short  hesitation  which  caused  that  moment  of  silence. 

But  at  last  she  spoke  resolutely,  and  with  clear,  em- 
phatic words : 

"  Tell  me,  then,  and  forgive  me  if  I  dare  to  ask  so 
much :  were  you  not  this  evening  on  the  balcony  over 
the  sea,  about  three  o'clock,  and  was  it  not  Ettore  Fiera- 
mosca  who  knelt  at  your  feet  ?  " 

This  question,  so  pointed  as  well  as  unexpected,  star- 
tled the  two  maidens,  but  from  different  causes.  The 
cheeks  of  the  Lady  Elvira  reddened  like  two  burning 
coals,  and  she  could  not  utter  a  word.  Ginevra  kept  her 
eyes  riveted  upon  her,  and  understood  the  whole  at  once ; 
her  blood  curdled  in  her  veins,  as  she  spoke  again,  but 
with  faltering  voice : 

"  Lady  !  I  am  too  bold,  I  know  it ;  but  see,  I  am  dy- 
ing, and  I  beseech  you  for  that  pardon,  which  we  all  hope 
in  another  world  ;  do  not  deny  me  this  favor ;  answer  me  : 
was  it  you  ?  .  .  .  was  it  he  ?  .  .  . 

The  Lady'  Elvira  was  bewildered  ;  she  turned  a  timid 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  295 

glance  to  Vittoria,  who,  reading  in  that  look  the  fear  of 
her  own  severity,  and  knowing  that  it  was  not  then  the 
place  or  time  to  show  it,  embraced  her  friend,  and  without 
speaking  endeavored  to  inspire  her  with  confidence. 

Ginevra  felt  an  increasing  agony  while  that  hesitation 
lasted ;  she  outstretched  her  open  and  trembling  hands 
to  the  maiden,  and  with  a  husky  voice,  almost  like  a  cry 
of  despair,  she  added  :  — 

"  Well,  then  ?  .  .  .  " 

The  Lady  Elvira,  frightened,  drew  closer  to  her  friend, 
lowered  her  eyes  and  said  : 

"  Yes  ...  we  were  .  .  ." 

The  face  of  the  most  unhappy  Ginevra  underwent  a 
change,  as  if  it  had  become  emaciated  all  at  once ;  but 
w^ith  great  eiFort  she  rose  and  set  up  in  the  bed,  took  the 
Lady  Elvira  by  the  hand,  drew  her  nearer,  threw  both 
her  amis  around  her  neck,  and  said :  "  May  God  bless 
you,  then,  and  make  you  both  happy  !  " 

But  the  last  word  was  scarcely  audible  ;  and  perhaps, 
before  it  had  been  entirely  articulated,  her  soul  had  de- 
parted to  receive  the  reward  of  victories  the  most  arduous, 
we  believe,  to  be  achieved  by  a  woman  on  earth,  and  of  a 
pardon  the  most  magnanimous  that  can  ever  be  granted 
by  a  human  heart. 

Her  arms,  which  were  entwined  around  Elvira's  neck, 
lost  their  power,  and  fell  together  with  the  inanimate 
body  on  the  couch.  Her  countenance  assumed  in  one 
instant  the  color  and  the  semblance  of  death ;  the  two 
maidens  perceived  it,  and  gave  a  piercing  shriek.  The 
friar  remained  breathless ;  at  last,  joining  his  hands,  he 
said  :  "  That  is  a  heavenly  countenance."  Then  they  all 
knelt  in  prayer,  and  implored  from  God  eternal  rest  to 
that  soul,  which  needed  it  so  much.     They  composed  her 


296  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

hands  over  her  bosom,  and  Fra  Mariano,  having  entwined 
the  rosary  he  took  from  his  belt  between  her  fingei-s, 
placed  a  light  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  said  :  Requiescat 
in  pace  ;  and  then  led  the  two  young  ladies  out  of  that 
sad  place.  Returning  to  the  bed,  he  remained  by  the 
corpse,  occupied  in  prayer  during  the  hours  that  re- 
mained until  dayhght. 


Among  the  varioos  motives,  that  led  Gonzalo  to  grant 
his  consent  to  the  challenges  between  the  Spaniards  and 
the  French,  and  the  Italians  and  the  French,  the  most 
important  of  all  was  to  gain  time  for  the  arrival  of  the 
reinforcements  which  were  expected  from  Spain  by  sea. 
Deprived  as  he  was  of  them,  and  too  inferior  in  strength 
to  the  French  army,  he  had  been  forced  to  keep  close 
within  the  walls  of  Barletta,  and  had  never  been  able  to 
engage  in  any  affair  of  importance.  But  during  that 
day,  in  which  he  had  entertained  the  French  barons  at 
his  castle,  he  had  received  letters  announcing  the  arrival 
of  vessels  laden  with  soldiers,  which  had  already  doubled 
the  Cape  of  Reggio,  and  would  not  be  long  in  lauding 
at  Barletta.  Feeling,  therefore,  that  it  would  be  im- 
provident to  let  too  much  time  be  wasted  in  this  way,  and 
that  it  was  of  paramount  importance  not  to  damp  the 
ardor  of  his  men,  who  would  feel  elated  by  the  arrival 
of  new  troops,  he  contrived,  in  his  conversation  with  the 
Duke  of  Nemours  and  others  of  the  French,  to  prevail 
on  them  to  appoint  a  day  as  near  as  possible.  It  Avas, 
therefore,  agreed  that  the  passage-at-arms  between  the 
Spaniards  and  the  French  should  take  place  on  the  day 
after  the  ball,  on  a  spot  along  the  sea-shore,  about  half 
a  mile  out  of  the  gate  that  leads  to  Bari ;  and  that  the 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  297 

Italians  should  fight  on  the  third  day,  in  a  place  already 
chosen  by  Brancaleone  and  Prospero  Colonna,  near  the 
village  of  Quarato,  half-way  between  Barletta  and  the 
French  camp. 

The  champions  of  both  parties,  having  been  informed 
by  their  leaders  of  the  new  arrangements,  betook  them- 
selves to  get  ready  at  once.  Those  of  the  French  who 
were  to  take  part  in  the  field,  left  the  dancing  hall  before 
the  rest,  and  repaired  to  their  camp  to  give  such  orders 
as  were  necessary  for  the  battle ;  and  the  Spaniards  also  re- 
turned to  their  quarters  to  make  theii'  preparations,  and  to 
take  some  rest  before  daybreak.  Inigo  and  Brancaleone 
heard  the  news,  when,  having  laid  Ginevra  in  the  room 
whence  she  would  not  go  out  alive,  they  had  gone  to  call 
Fra  Mariano ;  and  the  former,  being  one  of  the  combat- 
ants, in  order  to  arrange  matters,  had  been  obliged  to  leave 
to  his  companion  the  charge  of  waiting  on  Fieramosca, 
and  aiding  him  in  his  troubles.  They  pressed  each 
others'  hands  as  they  separated,  and  Inigo  remarked  :  — 

"  I  cannot,  for  the  life  of  me,  see  how  he  can  fight 
day  after  to-morrow,  when  he  could  not  keep  on  his  feet 
this  evening ! " 

Brancaleone  gave  no  answer,  but  shook  his  head,  bit 
his  lower  lip,  and  showed,  by  his  look,  how  fully  he  felt 
the  remark  of  the  Spaniard.  He  t-hen  left,  and  going 
to  the  harbor,  took  a  boat,  and  hastened  to  the  INIonas- 
tery  with  all  speed,  to  tell  Ettore  the  result  of  his  re- 
searches. 

But  before  we  tell  our  readers  in  what  state  he  found 
his  friend,  whom  he  had  left  in  such  a  miserable  plight, 
we  are  obliged,  by  anticipating  the  course  of  events,  to 
give  an  account  of  what  happened  the  following  day,  and 
of  the  result  of  the  challenge  given  by  the  Spaniards. 

13* 


298  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

The  sun  had  akeady  been  for  one  hour  above  the 
horizon  when  the  eleven  champions  of  each  side  stood 
opposite  to  each  other  in  the  lists.  Inigo,  Azevedo,  Correa, 
old  Sagredo,  and  Don  Garcia  de  Paredes,  were  the  most 
renowned  among  the  Spaniards.  The  rest,  although  of 
inferior  note,  were  all  good  soldiers,  and  skilful  horsemen. 
Pedro  Navarro  had  been  appointed  by  Don  Gonzalo 
marshal  of  the  day.  On  the  French  side,  this  charge 
had  been  given  to  Mouseigneur  de  Pelisse,  who  had 
among  his  men  Bayard,  the  pride  of  all  the  armies  of 
those  days.  The  battle  was  for  a  long  time  equally  suc- 
cessful on  both  sides.  Sagredo  at  last,  had  both  the  reins 
of  his  bridle,  which  he  held  very  tight,  cut  in  twain,  and 
was  carried  at  full  speed  out  of  the  lists.  This,  being 
one  of  the  chances  foreseen  in  the  laws  of  tournaments, 
was  considered  a  defeat,  and  he  to  whom  it  happened  was 
bound  to  sui'render.  Good  Sagredo,  perceiving  that  the 
horse  was  near  leaping  over  the  bounds  marked  all 
around  by  huge  stones,  threw  himself  from  the  horse ; 
but,  both  from  the  difficulty  of  the  leap,  and  from  having 
his  limbs  stiffened  by  age,  he  fell  on  his  knees ;  still  he 
held  his  ground,  and  bravely  defended  himself  against 
two  men  on  horseback.  But  his  sword  was  shattered, 
and  with  no  other  arms  at  his  disposal,  and  unable  to 
take  shelter  among  his  companions  who  were  at  too  great 
a  distance,  he  was  compelled  to  surrender.  However,  he 
came  out  with  great  honor,  was  accompanied  by  shouts 
of  acclamations,  and  great  sympathy  was  felt  for  his 
misfortune.  The  battle  continued  after  this  accident,  and 
at  a  time  it  seemed  that  fortune  was  leaning  towards  the 
Spanish ;  many  of  the  French  had  their  horses  killed. 
Here  we  must  call  the  attention  of  our  readers  to  the 
fact,  that  in  spite  of  the  old  laws  of  tournaments,  it  was 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  299 

often  customary  to  agree  beforehand  that  they  might 
wound  their  horses,  for  the  purpose  of  better  showing 
the  address  of  the  combatants,  and  also  to  give  it  the 
better  appearance  of  true  battle,  in  which  seldom,  if 
ever,  this  courtesy  was  allowed.  After  two  hours  of  hard 
fighting,  the  marshals  ordered  the  heralds  to  sound  the 
trumpets,  thus  to  separate  the  bands  and  grant  them 
a  brief  respite. 

The  Spaniards  were  all  still  mounted,  and  of  their 
number  the  only  one  missing  was  Sagredo.  On  the 
French  side,  one  had  been  made  prisoner,  and  on  this 
score  they  were  equal ;  but  there  were  seven  of  their 
horses  slain  on  the  ground.  Bayard,  however,  was  still 
in  his  saddle.  After  half  an  hour  of  rest,  the  fighting  was 
resumed,  and  in  spite  of  the  efforts  on  the  part  of  the 
Spaniards,  their  adversaries  maintained  themselves,  as  it 
were,  intrenched  behind  the  dead  horses,  over  which 
those  of  the  Spaniards,  no  matter  how  sharply  spurred 
on,  would  never  trample.  Therefore,  after  much  useless 
struggling,  the  French  offered  to  desist,  and  proclaim 
the  honors  of  the  day  equal  on  both  sides. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  obstinate  defence  on  the  part  of  the  French,  and 
the  difficulty  of  conquering  them  entirely,  entrenched  as 
they  were  behind  the  corpses  of  their  steeds,  made  the 
majority  of  the  Spaniards  feel  disposed  to  accept  the 
proposal.  But  Diego  Garcia  would  not  listen  to  it ; 
panting  with  rage,  he  shouted  with  a  voice  of  thun- 
der to  his  companions,  that  it  was  a  shame  to  retire 
before  men  half  conquered,  and  that  the  battle  should  be 
carried  by  making  them  feel  that  the  Spaniards  were 
their  superiors,  both  on  foot  and  on  horseback  ;  and  hav- 
ing no  other  arms  besides  his  sword,  which  could  not 
reach  them,  he  would  stoop  down  in  his  fury,  and  lifting 
those  large  stones  which  marked  the  bounds,  and  which 
could  have  been  scarcely  moved  by  a  man  of  ordinary 
strength,  he  flung  them  in  the  midst  of  the  opposite  squad. 
But  it  was  not  a  difficult  task  to  avoid  being  struck  by 
them ;  so  even  this  manoeuvre  had  no  effect.  Neverthe- 
less, the  battle  was  rekindled,  and  it  lasted  until  the  sun 
was  near  setting  beyond  the  horizon  ;  and  as  the  French 
maintained  their  position  with  admirable  address,  it  be- 
came necessary  for  both  parties  to  desist.  The  judges 
awarded  to  both  parties  the  honors  of  the  day,  rendering 
to  the  Spaniards  the  praise  of  more  valor,  and  to  the 
French  that  of  more  perseverance.  The  prisoners  were 
exchanged ;    and    the  cliampions  of  the  two  nations,  op- 


ETTOKE  FIERAMOSCA.  301 

pressed  with  fatigue,  panting,  and  well  bruised,  left  the 
lists  one  band  for  the  camp,  the  other  for  the  town. 

When  the  Spaniards  entered  the  gates  of  Barletta,  it 
was  near  night.  They  alighted  at  the  castle,  and  being 
admitted  to  the  presence  of  Gonzalo,  they  gave  an  account 
of  the  fortunes  of  the  day.  The  great  Captain  was 
greatly  offended,  and  reproached  them,  because,  having 
begun  so  well,  they  had  not  kept  their  advantage  to  the 
end.  The  noble  nature  of  Diego  Garcia  shone  here  in 
all  its  lustre.  He  who,  even  on  the  battle  field,  had  re- 
buked those  of  his  companions  who  would  leave  the  affair 
incompleted,  here  —  in  the  presence  of  Gonzalo — under- 
took to  defend  them  boldly,  protesting  that  they  had 
behaved  as  became  the  true  men  they  were,  and  had  at- 
tained their  purpose,  which  was  to  make  the  French 
acknowledge  that  they  were  equally  as  valiant  on  horse- 
back as  the  former  boasted  to  be.  But  Gonzalo  did  not 
receive  this  plea  well,  and  cutting  the  words  short  with 
the  remark  —  Por  mejores  os  emfrie  yo  al  campo,*  —  he 
dismissed  them. 

We  will  now  resume  the  thread  of  events,  narrating 
what  happened  to  Brancaleone  on  the  evening  before, 
after  he  had  left  Inigo  to  go  to  Fieraraosca. 

When  he  landed  at  the  island  of  Sant'  Orsola,  the 
anxiety  which  he  had  felt  to  make  a  quick  passage  had 
been  sobered  down  by  thinking  how  he  should  break  the 
news  of  Ginevra's  condition.  Slowly  he  ascended  the 
steps  which  led  to  the  terrace  of  the  convent,  and  hav- 
ing arranged  his  ideas,  he  went  to  the  strangers'  rooms. 
But  he  found  that  the  speech  he  had  prepared  would 

*  /  sent  you  for  better.  PrescotVs  translation.  Ferd.  and  Tsnb. 
chap.  on. 


302  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

be  of  no  use.  Entering  the  room,  he  saw  Zorais  sitting 
at  the  head  of  tlie  bed,  and  beckoning  to  him  with 
her  hand  to  step  lightly,  lest  he  might  disturb  Ettore, 
who  was  in  a  profound  sleep.  He  gently  withdrew  while 
the  young  woman  rose,  and  having  glanced  at  Fiera- 
mosca,  saw  that  he  was  still  enjoying  a  tranquil  rest, 
and  with  a  soft  step  she  followed  Brancaleone  to  one 
of  the  adjoining  rooms. 

"  All  right,"  said  Zorais.  "  To-morrow  Ettore  will  be 
as  well  as  ever.  But  Ginevra,  where  is  she  ?  —  have 
you  found  her  out  ?  " 

On  hearing  the  good  news  about  Fieramosca,  Bran- 
caleone began  to  breathe  freely,  and  answered  :  — 

"  Ginevra  is  at  the  castle,  in  good  hands,  and  you 
will  be  able  to  see  her  very  soon.  But  tell  me,  —  will 
Ettore  then  be  really  well  ?  Will  he  be  able  to  fight  ? 
We  must  fight  the  day  after  to-morrow." 

«  Yes,  he  shall  fight." 

There  was  a  kind  of  mysterious  expression  in  the 
manner  of  Zorais,  and  Brancaleone  felt  his  curiosity 
much  excited.  He  was  anxious  to  be  more  particularly 
informed  in  regard  to  the  nature  of  the  sickness  of  his 
friend ;  but  she  only  answered  that  he  had  been  slightly 
wounded  in  the  neck,  and  said  nothing  of  the  stiletto 
being  poisoned.  Nevertheless,  perceiving  that  the  wom- 
an did  not  give  straightforward  answers,  he  continued 
to  question  her,  but  could  not  succeed  in  obtaining  any 
more  precise  information. 

"  There  is  a  fable  with  us  in  the  east,"  said  Zorais, 
with  a  mournful  smile,  "  that  a  lion  in  the  desert  once 
liad  his  life  saved  by  a  mouse.  I  shall  tell  you  no 
more  ;  and  suffice  it  for  you  to  know  that  within  a  few 
hours  Ettore's  arm  will   be  as  stronji  as   the  neck  of  a 


ETTOIIE   FIERAMOSCA.  303 

wild  bull.  The  only  thing  to  be  clone  now  is  to  let 
hiru  rest  in  perfect  quiet ;  to-morrow  he  will  awake  in 
time  to  get  ready  for  the  battle.  I  shall  now  go  back 
to  him  to  be  ready  for  any  thing  he  may  want.  Trust 
him  to  me.  I  understand  the  art  of  curing  wounds, 
and  have  healed  some  far  worse  than  this." 

Brancaleone  perceiving  that  there  was  nothing  more 
to  be  done  for  his  friend,  begged  of  Zorais  that  when 
Ettore  awoke,  she  would  reassure  him  in  regard  to 
Ginevra ;  tell  him  that  the  battle  was  to  take  place  the 
day  after ;  that  he  should  return  to  the  convent  at  mid- 
day, if  he  did  not  see  him  in  the  city  before  that  hour. 
Having  thus  arranged  matters,  he  returned  to  Barletta, 
where,  before  going  home,  he  wished  to  go  to  the  castle 
to  know  what  had  become  of  Ginevra.  But  he  found 
the  gate  closed,  and  the  bridge  raised  ;  hence  he  was 
compelled  to  wait  until  the  following  day. 

At  daybreak  he  hurried  to  the  castle,  and  met  the 
eleven  Spanish  champions  emerging  from  it,  on  their 
way  to  the  lists,  and  followed  by  all  who  were  free  to 
go,  so  that  very  few  had  remained  in  the  castle.  lie 
ascended  the  stairs,  but  met  no  person  from  whom  he 
could  obtain  any  information.  He  reached  the  door 
of  the  room  where  he  had  left  Ginevra  the  evening  be- 
fore, and  knocked.  Fra  Mariano,  who  had  spent  the 
night  there,  opened,  and  taking  him  into  an  adjoining 
room,  told  Brancaleone  all  that  had  happened. 

The  sad  news  grieved  and  distressed  the  mind  of 
Brancaleone,  because  this  direful  misfortune  fell  upon 
his  friend  when  he  was  the  least  prepared  to  bear  it, 
and  when  he  stood  in  need  of  his  whole  energy  to  meet 
the  approaching  engagement.  He  was  afraid  lest,  being 
overcome  by  his  grief,  he  might  not  be  equal  to  a  trial 


304  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

» 

so  arduous  and  so  important.  He  therefore  agreed  with 
the  friar,  that  it  was  expedient  to  keep  Ginevra's  death 
concealed  from  Ettore  all  that  day ;  and  that  he  would 
on  the  morrow  himself  take  the  charge  of  carrying  the 
corpse  to  the  convent,  accoi-ding  to  her  wishes,  while 
Ettore  would  be  engaged  in  the  passage-at-arms.  They 
did  not  apprehend  much  difficulty  in  keeping  the  event 
secret  during  that  day,  when  the  castle  was  almost  de- 
serted ;  and  thought  necessary  to  inform  of  it  only  Gon- 
zalo,  that  he  might  grant  the  necessary  help  to  transfer 
the  body,  and  to  have  the  funeral  performed  with  honor. 

As  Fieramosca  must  have  some  explanation,  they 
agreed  that  Brancaleone  should  tell  him  that  Ginevra 
was  well  —  that  she  could  not  see  him  that  day  —  that 
she  only  wished  to  remind  him  of  the  honor  of  Italy, 
hoping  that  he  would  fight  with  that  valor  which  such  a 
cause  deserved  —  and  she  would  pray  for  him  and  his 
companions.  All  this  could  be  said  in  all  truth,  and  it 
was  such  a  message  as  to  give  him  comfort  and  nerve 
before  approaching  the  battle. 

Having  thus  settled  this  most  important  part  of  the 
affair,  Brancaleone  went  to  the  square,  and  having  en- 
tered the  quarters  of  the  Colonnas,  he  met  them  both  in 
the  yard,  where  they  had  assembled  the  thirteen  Italians, 
and  most  minutely  examined  the  armor,  the  harness,  afid 
the  horses,  in  order  that  every  thing  might  be  in  readi- 
ness on  the  following  day,  and  that  every  part  of  the 
equipments  should  be  tried  beforehand. 

Brancaleone,  who  had  knowledge  of  the  meeting,  had 
sent  thither  his  attendants,  and  thase  of  Fieramosca, 
with  their  horses  and  armor.  But  their  owner  was  not 
there,  and  the  only  answer  given  to  tlie  inquiries  was, 
that  nobody  had  seen  him. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  305 

Prospero  Colonna  heard  the  news  with  amazement, 
which  soon  changed  into  anger.  Therefore,  when  Bran- 
caleone  made  his  appearance,  he  asked,  with  gi*eat 
severity  of  manner  :  — 

"  And  where  is  Fieramosca  ;  —  why  does  he  not  come  ?  " 

"  Eccellenza  !  "  answered  Brancaleone,  "  he  will  be 
here  in  a  few  moments.  His  delay  is  not  voluntary.  .  .  . 
A  sudden  occurrence,  and  of  very  grave  nature  .  .   .  ." 

"  What  can  there  be  of  more  importance  than  to-mor- 
row's business  ?  I  did  not  imagine  that  he  could  have 
any  other  affair  at  heart  just  now." 

Fanfulla,  remembering  the  incidents  of  the  previous 
evening,  wished  to  give  the  conversation  a  turn  that  might 
afford  him  an  opportunity  to  speak  of  them,  and  remarked 
with  a  smile :  — 

"  Eh !  he  must  have  danced  too  much  last  night,  or  he 
must  have  found  some  new  nail  to  drive  off  that  old  one ; 
and  then  of  course  it  is  not  very  pleasant  to  rise  too 
early." 

"  He  has  found  the  plague  that  may  God  send  to  thee," 
replied  Brancaleone.  "  Thou  believest  every  one  as  mad 
as  thyself?  I  assure  you,  Eccellenza,  on  ray  honor,  he 
will  be  here  instantly ;  and  I  will  go  myself  to  hurry  him 
on," 

He  thought  this  would  be  the  best,  because,  although 
assured  by  Zorais,  he  feared  lest  some  new  accident  had 
happened.  He  went  to  the  harbor  to  take  another  trip 
to  the  island.  Having  entered  a  boat,  just  as  he  was  dip- 
ping the  oar,  he  saw  another  doubling  the  mole,  and  to 
his  great  joy  he  saw  Ettore,  who  hastened  towards  him, 
and  leaping  on  the  shore,  said :  — 

"  Where  is  Ginevra  ?  is  she  sick  ?  what  has  happened 
to  her  ?  quick,  quick,  let  us  go  to  her." 


306  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

"  Quick,  quick  to  the  Colonnas  instead  ;  they  are  only 
waiting  for  you.  Ginevra  is  well,  and  you  shall  see  her 
afterwards." 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  that  she  is  well ;  but  let  us  go  to  her." 

"  But  did  not  Zorais  tell  you  that  the  battle  comes  off 
to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  did ;  but  now,  in  God's  name,  bring  me  to 
Ginevra  ..." 

"  You  cannot  see  her  now,  nor  to-day  either  ..." 

«  And  I  say  ...  " 

"  But  if  you  do  not  listen  to  me,  and  give  me  a  chance 
to  speak,  we  shall  never  come  to  any  conclusion.  You 
must  then  know  —  and  all  this  I  tell  you  in  her  own  name, 
not  that  I  have  seen  her,  but  she  has  given  orders  that  I 
should  take  this  message  to  you  —  that  she  is  well,  Sig- 
nora  Vittoria  has  taken  care  of  her,  looks  to  her  comfort, 
and  has  rendered  to  her  those  affectionate  services  which 
her  case  needed,  so  that  she  wants  nothing.  She 
wishes  you  not  to  think  of  anything  else  to-day,  and  not 
to  see  her ;  —  that  you  should  keep  yourself  calm,  fight  to- 
morrow as  it  becomes  you,  not  forget  the  honor  of  Italy, 
and  bear  in  mind  all  that  you  have  so  often  spoken  to- 
gether on  this  subject ;  and  she  will  pray  to  God  for  your 
victory  ..." 

"  But,  oh !  why  can  I  not  see  her  ?  .  .  .  I  fear  there  is 
something  wrong  in  this  matter." 

"  And  I  say  to  you  that  there  is  nothing  wrong ;  if  I 
wished  to  tell  you  how  the  tumult  of  yesterday  ended,  I 
could  not,  because  I  don't  know  it  myself;  but  in  heaven's 
name  let  this  be  enough  for  the  present,  to  know  that  she 
is  safe ;  we  shall  have  leisure  to  know  all  the  rest  after 
the  battle,  and  we  have  no  time  now  to  think  of  any  thing 
else.     Let  us  go :  Signor  Prospero  and  the  rest  are  wait- 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  307 

ing  for  us  ;  they  have  been  asking  of  you,  and  some  of 
them  are  amazed  at  your  conduct,  that  you  should  not 
be  with  them  at  this  hour.  Come,  have  courage !  You 
have  always  been  a  man !  and  it  is  really  shameful  to 
trample  now  under  foot  the  honor  and  fame  of  the  great 
soldier  you  have  always  maintained." 

"  Let  us  go,  yes,  let  us  go,"  Fieramosca  replied  with  a 
slight  show  of  impatience  ;  "  I  am  not  a  horse  that  needs 
so  much  spurring.  I  only  requested  you  to  let  me  see  her 
for  one  instant ;  will  this  make  the  world  crumble  to 
atoms  ?  " 

"  The  world  will  not  come  to  a  crash  .  .  .  but  can't 
you  understand  that  they  are  all  there,  on  parade,  and 
that  you  are  the  only  one  wanted  .  .  .  what  rtmst  they 
think  of  this  ?  " 

"  Well  then,"  rejoined  Fieramosca,  hastening  his  steps, — 
they  had  made  little  headway  during  the  above  dialogue, 
as  one  wanted  to  go  to  the  castle,  while  the  other  endeav- 
ored to  drag  him  to  the  Colonnas, —  "  well,  let  us  go,  you 
spoke  truly  .  .  .  duty  and  honor  before  every  thing  else." 

And  as  they  were  hurrying  along,  Brancaleone  ad- 
dressed him  the  following  questions  :  — 

"  Well  then,  by  the  by,  how  dost  thou  feel  ?  —  the 
wound  ?  .  .  .  " 

"Oh!  it  is  nothing  ...  I  will  tell  thee  all  by  and 
by  ...  I  have  no  time  now  .  .  .  What  deviltry !  and 
that  poor  Zorais !  she  would  not  tell  me  any  thing ;  but  I 
know  it  all  ...  I  could  judge  from  the  great  sufferings 
I  had  .  .  .  The  stiletto  must  have  been  poisoned  .  .  . 
I  hope  she  has  not  sucked  the  wound  .  .  .  and  perilled 
her  health,  perhaps  her  life  .  .  .  but  alas !  I  fear  it  will 
be  the  case  .  .  .  But  I  was  so  much  bewildered  that  I 
cannot  remember  whether  it  was  a  fact  or  a  dream  I  went 
thron<i;h." 


308  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

"  But  after  all,  you  are  well  now  ?  .  .  .  " 

"  As  if  I  had  never  been  sick." 

And  saying  this,  they  had  entered  the  yard,  and  stood 
before  Prospero  Colonna,  who,  after  a  few  remarks  about 
Fieramosca's  delay,  proceeded  in  the  inspection  in  which 
he  was  engaged. 

The  examination  was  so  minute  that  it  lasted  several 
hours.  They  tried  the  horses  as  to  their  strength ;  they 
tried  the  armor  with  lance,  battle-axe,  and  sword.  The 
offensive  weapons  were  wielded  upon  wood  and  iron ; 
the  least  flaw  or  straining  would  condemn  them  ;  and  the 
less  perfect  were  rejected.  About  mid-day,  when  all 
retui'ned  to  their  lodgings,  only  Ettore  was  detained 
under  pretence  of  arranging  some  particulars  regarding 
the  challenge,  but  in  fact  for  the  purpose  of  not  allowing 
him  any  time  to  follow  his  own  inclinations.  Branca- 
leone  had  drawn  Signor  Prospero  aside,  acquainted  him 
with  what  had  happened,  and  requested  him  to  arrange 
matters  se  that  Fieramosca  should  be  kept  busy  the  whole 
day,  and  it  was  done  accordingly.  At  night,  when  there 
could  be  no  reasonable  pretext  for  detaining  him,  he  was 
dismissed,  and  Brancaleone  accompanied  him  home,  talk- 
ing all  the  time  about  the  profession  of  arms,  and  how 
they  should  act  the  following  day  with  the  enemy  ;  and  so 
well  did  he  succeed  in  engaging  the  attention  of  his  friend, 
that  the  latter  had  no  chance  of  allowing  his  imagination 
to  wander  after  the  object  towards  which  his  heart  was 
so  irresistibly  drawn.  As  they  traversed  the  square, 
they  met  the  band  of  the  Spanish  champions  returning 
from  the  lists,  and  stopping  to  greet  them  and  to  hear  the 
result  of  the  battle,  they  tarried  so  long  that  it  was  late 
in  the  night  when  they  went  home. 

"  These    diahles   of    Frenchmen    have   tough   skins," 


ETTORE   P^IERAMOSCA.  309 

remarked  Ettore,  in  taking  leave  of  his  friend ;  "  and 
the  Spaniards  have  got  meat  for  their  teeth." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  answered  Brancaleone ;  "  we 
will  have  to  do  with  men  ;  it  is  not  for  nothing  that  we 
follow  to  the  Colonna  banner.  For  ray  part,  I  hope 
I'll  do  the  work  of  two  to-morrow.  Just  imagine  what 
those  ribalds  of  the  Orsini  would  say,  should  we  be  beat- 
en !  That  great  poltroon  of  the  Count  of  Pitigliano ! 
would  he  not  enjoy  it !  .  .  .  but  this  time,  I  trust,  he  will 
not  have  this  pleasure." 

"  No,  no !  "  Fieramosca  replied  ;  "  and  perhaps  some 
of  these  Frenchmen  will  regi'et  that  they  have  ever 
tasted  the  figs  of  Puglia.  Well !  let  us  go  to  rest  now, 
and  on  the  morrow  we  will  show  that  if  the  wretched 
Italians  are  incessantly  outraged,  it  is  because  an  ac- 
cursed fate  weighs  upon  them ;  but  after  all,  take  man  to 
man,  we  fear  neither  them  nor  the  world.  Goodby, 
Brancaleone.  I  know  what  thou  wishest  to  say,"  he 
added  with  a  smile;  "fear  not — until  to-morrow  evening 
I  shall  think  of  nothing  else  but  of  the  business  we  have 
on  hand ;  and  I  swear  to  thee  that  my  blood  is  a  great 
deal  more  hot  to-day  than  when  the  challenge  was  ac- 
cepted ;  and  I  trust  that  neither  Italy  nor  you  will  have 
occasion  to  be  ashamed  of  me." 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  that,"  answered  Brancaleone. 
"  To-morix)w." 

"  To-morrow,"  replied  Fieramosca,  presenting  his  hand, 
and  they  parted. 

Fieramosca  wanted  to  have  a  look  at  the  stable  before 
he  went  up  to  his  quarters ;  and  having  entered  it,  he 
began  to  caress  his  good  battle  horse  with  that  affection, 
and  I  might  say  friendship,  which  every  soldier  feels  for 
the  companion  of   his  labors  and  of  his  dangers.      He 


310  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

softly  patted  his  neck  and  his  shoulders ;  and  the  noble 
steed  drawing  his  ears  back,  shook  his  head,  and  in  his 
play  feigned  to  bite  his  master. 

"  My  poor  Airone,  eat  away,  and  have  good  cheer 
as  long  as  there  is  a  chance;  it  is  not  sure  thou  shalt 
enjoy  this  stall  to-morrow  eve.  .  .  .  For  any  other 
business  I  would  take  Boccanera,  and  I  would  not  risk 
thy  skin ;  but  to-morrow  I  really  need  to  bestride  thee. 
I  am  sure,  thou  wilt  not  lose  thy  footing ;  I  know  that. 
And  then,"  he  added  with  a  laugh,  and  taking  the  mouth 
of  the  horse  between  his  hands,  "  thou  also  art  an  Italian, 
and  thou  also  must  needs  carry  thy  cross." 

Having  then  examined  every  thing,  and  being  satisfied 
that  all  was  right,  "  Masuccio,"  he  said,  calling  on  his 
squire,  "  give  him  water  at  four  o'clock,  and  then  as 
many  oats  as  he  can  eat ;  come  up  to  arm  me  at  five." 

These  orders  being  given,  he  went  up  stairs ;  after 
a  few  minutes  the  light  was  put  out,  and  he  found  him- 
self in  bed  with  the  firm  resolution  of  going  to  sleep  and 
rest.  At  first  he  felt  as  if  he  might  easily  sleep ;  but 
first  one  thought  presented  itself  to  his  mind,  then  an- 
other, and  another,  and  he  had  been  already  lying  for 
several  hours  without  closing  an  eye  for  one  moment. 
.  After  the  words  of  Brancaleone,  he  had  made  his  mind 
easy  in  regard  to  the  case  of  Ginevra  ;  but  the  case  now 
presented  itself  enveloped  in  darkness  and  suspicion  ;  a 
swarm  of  indistinct  fears  crowded  around  his  heart.  "  It 
must  be  a  very  strange  mystery  that  I  must  not  know  it 
until  to-morrow  !  would  Brancaleone  deceive  me  ?  " 

Once  he  felt  an  impulse  in  his  heart  even  to  curse  the 
challenge ;  but  the  thought  was  driven  away  with  high 
disdain,  even  before  it  had  been  half  formed. 

"  Oh,  for  shame !    shame  ! "   he  exclaimed,  sitting  up 


ETTORE   FIEEAMOSCA.  311 

in  his  bed ;  "  how  could  I  harbor  such  baseness  in  my 
heart !  .  .  .  I  am  not  the  man  I  once  was.  What 
would  Ginevra  say  were  she  to  know  how  sadly  changed 
I  am,  and  how  cold  I  have  grown  towards  those  deeds 
which  formerly  would  have  set  the  very  blood  of  my 
veins  on  fire." 

These  thoughts  passing  through  his  mind  made  him 
angry  with  himself,  so  much  so  that  rising  in  a  fury,  he 
dressed  himself,  and  left  the  bed,  which  affording  no  sleep 
had  become  irksome.  He  went  out  on  the  terrace,  and 
seated  himself  on  the  little  stony  guard  in  which  he  was 
so  often  wont  to  sit,  under  the  palm  tree,  resolved  there 
to  remain  waiting  for  the  break  of  day,  which  was  now 
fast  approaching. 

The  moon,  pale  and  crescent,  was  mirrored  in  the  calm 
waters.  At  about  five  hundred  yards  on  the  left,  the 
Rock  arose,  scarcely  visible  at  that  hour,  and  appeared 
like  a  huge  dark  heap  of  stones,  the  mei'lons  alone  being 
discernible  over  the  towers  against  the  heavens.  Ettore's 
eye  was  riveted  on  those  walls,  and  his  heart  throbbed, 
thinking  of  her  who  was  kept  within  them ;  and  he  imag- 
ined he  heard  from  time  to  time  a  distant  murmur  like 
the  alternate  reading  of  psalms.  But  the  sound  came 
from  so  far,  that  he  could  not  distinctly  understand  its 
nature  and  meaning.  Through  a  window,  which  being 
open  on  a  side  of  the  castle  he  could  only  see  obliquely, 
a  light  appeared  burning  the  whole  night.  He  would 
fain  have  given  his  blood  not  to  see  that  lamp  any  more, 
and  he  tui-ned  his  eyes  another  way,  saying,  —  "I  am 
very  silly  to  torture  my  mind  with  such  imaginations ; " 
but  the  eyes  would  revert  to  the  window  in  spite  of  him- 
self, and  there  stood  that  light  still  burning. 

Very  often  does  man  deal  with  himself  in  bad  faith, 


312  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

when  he  is  a  prey  to  harassing  misgivings.  This  was 
the  case  with  Ettoi*e.  He  endeavored  to  persuade  him- 
self of  what  his  mind  would  by  no  means  believe,  that 
all  was  right  with  Ginevra,  —  that  nothing  evil  had  hap- 
pened to  her,  and  that  the  mystery  which  he  could  not 
but  observe  in  the  circumstances,  was  only  a  fancy  of 
his,  and  the  effect  of  a  diseased  imagination.  And  if  he 
essayed  all  this  mental  labor  to  deceive  himself,  he  did  so 
because  he  knew  that  he  could  not  concentrate  all  the 
energies  of  his  mind  upon  the  subject  of  the  forthcoming 
battle,  except  by  assuming  the  probability  if  not  the  cer- 
tainty of  that  which  his  calmer  reason  represented  to  be 
a  mere  illusion. 

"  Oh  !  yes,  yes,"  he  would  say  to  himself  with  a  shak- 
ing of  the  head,  and  passing  his  hand  over  his  brow  and 
hair,  as  if  to  drive  away  the  thoughts  which  were  crowd- 
ing upon  his  mind ;  "  let  us  take  care  of  our  honor  before 
every  thing  else  .  .  .  and  to-morrow,  perhaps,  by  this 
time  I  shall  have  said  to  her,  Ginevra,  we  have  won  the 
battle  ;"  .  .  .  then,  as  a  new  thought  arose  in  his  mind, 
"  perhaps  she  will  have  seen  me  carried  into  Barletta  on 
a  bier,  and  remarked,  J*oor  JEttore,  thou  hast  done  thy 
best !  .  .  .  And  if  it  should  happen  so  ?  then  I  shall  have 
died  like  a  good  man  and  true.  She  will  weep  over  me  ; 
but  she  could  never  bear  that  I  should  live  at  the  price 
of  cowardice ;  aye,  she  would  feel  proud  in  saying,  we 
were  friends  from  chilcUiood  .  .  .  true!  .  .  •  but  then  she 
will  live  alone,  without  friends ;  and  she  does  not  even 
know  that  her  husband  is  living  in  the  French  camp  .  .  . 
but  if  she  knew  it,  how  could  she  present  herself  after  so 
long  a  time  ?  " 

Ettore  had  formed  in  his  mind,  and  partly  carried  out, 
the  resolution  of  recommending  her  to  Brancaleone  ;  but 


ETTOEE   FIERAMOSCA.  313 

then  thinking  that  he  might  also  fall  in  the  lists,  he  re- 
solved to  write  a  letter  to  Prospero  Colonna,  with  direc- 
tions that  the  little  property  he  had  in  Capua,  viz :  a 
house  and  a  small  farm,  together  with  his  horses,  their 
equipments,  amounting  to  several  thousand  ducats,  should 
be  given  to  Maria  Giuevra  Rossi,  of  Monreale.  He  re- 
lighted the  lamp,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  letter  was 
written.  Then  he  thought  to  enclose  therein  one  for 
Ginevra,  as  if  to  take  leave^  and  to  recommend  to  her 
care  the  Saracen  maiden,  to  whom  he  felt  grateful  for  so 
many  reasons ;  and  as  it  was  the  hour  of  cockcrowing, 
and  the  men  were  already  stirring  in  the  stable,  having 
very  little  time,  he  only  wrote  these  few  lines  :  — 

"  Ginevi-a,  —  I  am  on  the  moment  of  mounting  my 
horse ;  and  I  cannot  say  that  I  shall  ahght  from  it  at 
night  alive.  If  it  has  been  otherwise  determined  in 
heaven,  I  am  sure  that  after  having  bestowed  a  tear  on 
him  who,  from  childliood,  has  been  thy  faithful  friend  and 
servant,  thou  wilt  rejoice  that  I  have  met  a  death,  than 
which  none  can  be  imagined  either  more  glorious  or  more 
enviable.  Enjoy,  for  my  sake,  the  little  property  that 
belongs  to  me ;  thou  knowest  that  I  am  free,  and  without 
near  kindred.  I  only  request  thee,  and  I  need  not  waste 
many  words  on  it,  to  befriend  my  servant  Masuccio,  who, 
from  the  day  he  was  wounded  on  the  shoulder  at  Olfanto, 
cannot  help  himself  much ;  and  without  some  help  from 
thee,  he  might  be  reduced  to  beg  his  way  through  life  ; 
which  would  be  a  poor  honor  to  my  memory.  One  thing 
more.  Thy  husband  is  alive,  and  serves  in  the  army  of 
the  Duke  of  Nemours.  I  have  no  moi'e  time.  I  hear 
them  stirring  at  the  Colonna-quarters.  God  guard  thee 
in  his  keeping.     I  recommend  Zorais  also  to  thee. 

14  "  Ettore." 


314  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

And,  in  fact,  the  trumpeter  was  heard  making  those 
flourishes,  short  and  bi'oken,  which  are  the  usual  prelude 
before  sounding  the  reveille.  A  certain  swelling  noise, 
and  a  subdued  bustling  issuing  from  the  ground-rooms  of 
Ettore's  and  the  adjoining  houses,  voices  undistinguished, 
and  the  tread  of  men  and  horses  over  the  pavement,  plainly 
announced  that  both  the  actors  and  the  spectators  of  the 
forthcoming  passage-at-arms  were  bestirring  themselves. 
The  skies,  however,  had  not  yet  given  any  sign  of  break 
of  day ;  on  the  contrary,  a  dingy  mist  concealed  the 
stars,  and  rendered  the  atmosphere  very  heavy. 

Fieramosca  perceived  the  appearance  of  the  sky  as  he 
was  on  the  moment  of  sealing  the  two  letters  which  he 
had  written  before  the  open  window,  out  of  which  he  saw 
the  slanting  light  from  his  lamp  illuminating  that  portion 
of  the  atmosphere  it  struck  upon.  The  gloomy  appear- 
ance of  the  weather  increased  that  sadness  which  had 
already  taken  possession  of  his  heart ;  and  what  between 
the  bats,  which,  attracted  by  the  light,  fled  with  swift  and 
tremulous  wings  to  and  fro  before  his  window,  and  the 
Avatches  on  the  towers  calling  in  mournful  tones  the 
liour  for  change  of  guards,  the  natural  melancholy  of 
the  hour  was  increased,  and  the  devoted  youth  felt  for  a 
moment  oppressed  by  it.  But  the  heavy  and  sounding 
tread  of  two  men,  who,  having  ascended  the  steps,  were 
entering  his  room,  made  him  lift  his  countenance  and  put 
on  a  cheerful  and  bold  look,  so  that  they  might  not  notice 
the  actual  state  of  his  feeUngs. 

Brancaleone,  encased  in  his  armor  excejit  his  head, 
was  followed  by  Masuccio  who  carried  Fieraraosca's 
armor.  The  bell  from  San  Dominico's  steeple  tolled  the 
hour  of  mass,  at  which  the  combatants  were  to  assist 
before  departing  for  the  lists. 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  315 

"  Put  on  thy  arms,  Ettore,  because  they  will  be  all  in 
the  church  in  a  few  moments,"  was  Brancaleone's  greet- 
ing ;  and  suiting  the  action  to  the  words,  with  the  help 
of  Masuccio,  he  had  in  a  few  moments  covered  his  friend 
with  the  perfect  and  shining  armor  which  he  used  to 
wear  on  occasions  of  great  solemnity.  It  was  from  the 
hands  of  one  of  the  most  skilful  workmen  of  Milan ;  it 
fitted  the  well  formed  person  of  the  knight,  and  it  had 
been  so  skilfully  put  together  at  the  joints,  that  it  dis- 
played, without  the  least  alteration,  the  graceful  features 
of  the  body,  allowing  him  at  the  same  time  the  free  and 
easy  motion  of  his  limbs.  As  he  had  completed  arming 
himself,  and  had  girded  the  sword  on  his  left,  and  the 
dagger  on  the  right,  they  both  went  down  stairs,  followed 
by  their  menials  who  carried  helmets  and  bucklers,  and 
led  the  horses.  They  entered  San  Dominico,  where,  in  a 
few  minutes,  the  twelve  champions,  with  Prospero  Co- 
lonna  at  their  head,  arrived,  surrounded  by  a  throng  of 
people. 

The  form  of  the  chui'ch  was  quadrangular ;  there  were 
three  naves,  separated  by  columns  on  which  groined 
arches  were  poised.  Near  the  chancel  two  lateral 
extensions  gave  it  the  appearance  of  a  cross.  Ac- 
cording to  the  ancient  style,  the  stalls  for  the  monks 
were  in  two  ranges  on  each  side  and  in  front  of  the  altar, 
and  were  carved  in  wood,  highly  ornamented  with  foliage 
and  fretwork,  which,  from  old  age,  had  acquired  a  shin- 
ing and  darkish  hue.  In  the  centre  of  the  choir  was  set 
a  long  kneeling  bench,  fitted  up  for  thirteen  occupants, 
and  on  it  knelt  the  Italian  men-at-arms.  The  light  of 
day  was  increasing,  but  it  was  not  as  yet  so  light  as  to 
make  its  way  through  the  thick  stained  glass  which  filled 
the  narrow  Gothic  windows  ;  hence  the  main  body  of  the 


31 G  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

church  was  almost  entirely  enveloped  in  darkness,  and  the 
reddish  lights  from  the  altar  only  faintly  gleamed  over  the 
breast  plates  of  the  warriors,  leaving  every  other  figure 
almost  invisible.  Prospero  Colonna,  sheathed  in  his 
armor,  stood  a  little  in  advance  of  the  rest,  and  had  at 
his  feet,  to  kneel  upon,  a  cushion  of  red  velvet  on  which 
a  column  had  been  richly  embroidered  in  silver,  and  had 
been  carried  by  two  pages,  who  stood  at  a  little  distance 
from  him.  Mass  was  commenced,  and  Fra  Mariano  was 
officiating.  Any  heart  that  was  capable  of  generous  and 
magnanimous  feelings,  could  not  remain  untouched  at  the 
sight  of  those  valiant  and  bold  Italian  young  warriors, 
who  bent  their  brows,  furrowed  by  fatigue  and  the  sword, 
before  the  God  of  armies,  beseeching  of  Him  to  grant  to 
their  weapons  virtue  and  strength  to  conquer  those  who 
wished  to  drag  in  the  mire  the  Italian  name. 

Their  bearing  expressed  the  religious  feelings  swelling 
in  their  hearts,  albeit  the  constant  practise  of  military 
drill  gave  them  even  then  a  look  of  boldness.  On  the 
left  hand,  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  bench,  stood  Fiera- 
mosca,  upright,  motionless,  with  his  arms  crossed  on  his 
breast.  The  door  of  the  vestry  opened  before  him  ;  and 
the  servants  of  the  church,  who  were  passing  to  and 
fro  on  errands  of  their  office,  might  have  easily  an- 
nojed  him  in  his  prayerg";  but  a  scene  was  enacted 
within  the  sacristy,  and  a  conversation  canned  on,  which 
could  not  but  deeply  affect  a  mind  most  sadly  pre- 
occupied. 

A  man,  dressed  in  a  long  robe  of  dark  color,  stood  in 
the  midst  of  the  vestry  addressing  a  brother  of  the  order 
of  San  Dominico,  and  requesting  him  :  — 

"  "Which  one  must  I  get  ready ;  that  for  the  poor,  or 
the  one  used  for  the  quality  ?  " 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  317 

"  Of  course,  the  best,"  answered  the  Dominican  ;  "  you 
know  that  it  is  Signer  Gonzalo  who  paj^s  the  expenses." 

The  servant  moved  away ;  Fieramosca  lost  sight  of 
him,  but  heard  his  footsteps  as  he  entered  what  seemed 
to  be  a  closet ;  then  silence  reigned  for  a  few  minutes ; 
then  again  he  heard  the  same  footsteps  coming  back,  and 
something  dragging  on  the  stone  floor.  The  same  man 
reappeared,  drawing  after  him,  and  leaving  in  the  midst 
of  the  sacristy  a  black  bier  ornamented  with  galloons  of 
silver,  over  which  he  threw  a  huge  pall  of  black  velvet. 
When  the  undertaker  bad  prepared  every  thing,  he  went 
away,  and  there  stood  the  bier  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 

Fieramosca  never  had  any  idea  for  whom  that  dismal 
article  was  destined,  and  if  the  suspicion  had  entered  his 
mind,  he  would  have  banished  it  as  a  foolish  thought ;  still 
he  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  it  during  the  whole  ser- 
vice. His  thoughts  were  naturally  bent  on  the  probabil- 
ity that  it  might  be  the  last  day  of  his  life,  and  he  turned 
his  heart  with  renewed  fervor  to  beg  pardon  of  the  Lord 
for  the  sins  of  his  life.  He  passed  under  review  the 
whole  length  of  time  from  the  night  he  had  rescued  Gi- 
nevra  in  Santa  Cecilia  ;  and  he  felt  reproached  only  be- 
cause he  had  not  told  her  that  Graiano  was  alive.  How- 
ever of  this  sin,  as  well  as  of  all  others,  he  had  been 
shriven  the  night  previous.  He  felt  great  ease  and  calm- 
ness in  his  heart,  and  he  felt  that  he  could  meet  death 
without  fear. 

"When  mass  was  over,  the  thirteen  followed  Prosper© 
Colonna  to  his  quarters,  where  they  sat  down  to  break- 
fast. 

One  of  the  conditions  sworn  to  by  the  French  as  well 
as  by  the  Italian  party  was,  that  any  man-at-arms  who, 
being  made  a  prisoner,  did  not  wish  to  follow  his  con- 


318  ETTOEE  FIEKAMOSCA. 

queror,  might  be  ransomed  with  arms  and  horse,  by  the 
disbursement  of  a  hundred  ducats.  Every  one  of  the 
Itahan  champions  deposited  the  sum  in  the  hands  of  Sig- 
nor  Prospero ;  and  the  thirteen  hundred  ducats  were 
placed  on  the  sumpter  mules,  which  were  sent  in  advance 
to  the  field  with  refreshments  and  equipage  that  might 
be  wanted. 

Breakfast  being  over,  the  champions  went  to  the  cita- 
del, where  the  great  Captian  was  waiting  for  them  in  the 
dancing  hall.  They  took  leave  of  him  with  few  words 
and  a  serene  countenance.  And  he  dismissed  them,  in- 
viting them  to  be  ftt  supper  with  him,  remarking  that  he 
would  have  the  tables  ready  for  twenty-six  persons,  so 
that  if  the  French  should  have  forgotten  to  carry  with 
them  the  ransom  price,  they  should  not  be  obliged  to 
go  to  bed  with  empty  stomachs. 

Then  they  descended  into  the  yard,  where  the  horses 
were  held  in  readiness  by  their  attendants,  and,  two 
abreast,  began  their  march,  the  band  preceding  them, 
and  followed  by  their  friends  and  a  crowd  of  idle  specta- 
tors. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

At  an  equal  distance  from.  Barletta  and  the  French 
camp,  the  land  slopes  gently  from  the  foot  of  the  hills 
down  to  a  level  bottom  of  about  one  thousand  feet  square, 
surrounded  by  swelling  mounds,  most  probably  of  alluvial 
formation.  The  ground  is  formed  of  small  gravel  and 
silicious  sand,  entirely  free  from  weeds  and  shrubs,  and 
affords  a  solid  and  sure  tread  to  the  horse's  foot.  Such 
was  the  place  chosen  for  the  combat.  On  the  day  previ- 
ous, men  had  been  dispatched  there  to  level  the  inequali- 
ties of  the  surface.  The  bounds  were  set  by  a  trench 
and  large  stones  placed  all  around.  On  the  brow  of  a 
hill  which  commanded  a  view  of  the  place,  under  the 
shade  of  immense  holms,  the  stand  for  the  judges  was 
erected,  with  flags  white  and  vermilion  hanging  from  the 
branches.  Twenty-six  lances  with  the  shields  of  the  men- 
at-arms  of  the  two  nations,  and  their  names  posted  on 
placards  with  large  letters,  w^ere  placed  in  front  of  this  tri- 
bunal. Curiosity  had  drawn  together  an  immense  throng 
of  Signorotti  and  peasants  from  towns  and  villages  all 
around,  and  eveiy  high  place  in  the  environs  was  taken 
possession  of  long  before  sunrise.  Spectators  of  any  note 
above  the  rest  sat  with  old  folks  and  women  on  the  green 
sward  ;  boys,  poor  people,  and  urchins  had  climbed  on  the 
tops  of  trees,  and  their  faces  and  garments  were  strongly 
contrasted  with  the  green  foliage  amidst  which  they  were 


320  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

perched.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight  especially  for  those 
who,  situated  at  one  end  of  the  camp,  had  the  inland  be- 
hind them,  and  looked  over  the  basin  of  the  harbor  — 
such  a  rich  rural  scene,  enlivened  by  such  a  crowd  with 
so  much  stir  and  life  !  —  On  the  right  the  majestic  clumps 
of  oaks,  the  dark  hue  of  their  leaves  shading  with  the 
lively  and  gay  green  of  smaller  wood  ;  —  on  a  plain 
far  beyond  the  forest  stood  the  town  of  Quarato,  of  which 
only  the  gates  were  visible  as  they  were  guarded  by  a 
tower  built  on  the  projection  of  rocks,  at  the  foot  of  which 
the  road  is  winding  in  its  course ;  —  in  the  centre  of  the 
field  and  beyond  the  Adriatic  shore  the  city  and  castle  of 
Barletta,  and  the  colored  forms  of  the  buildings  standing 
in  bold  relief  over  the  blue  tint  of  the  waters,  —  farther 
away  still  the  bridge  and  island  of  Sant'  Orsola,  and  the 
peaks  of  Gargano,  bounded  by  the  line  of  the  horizon  ;  — 
then  at  the  left  the  hills  gently  rising  to  a  great  height,  — 
and  opposite  to  the  judges'  stand,  on  an  uneven  ground, 
carpeted  with  fresh  grass,  clumps  of  gigantic  oaks,  cov- 
ered with  ivy,  and  in  the  fuU  vigor  of  a  luxuriant  growth. 
A  fog  that  had  been  lowering  during  the  night  was 
chased  away  by  the  dawn,  and  floated  in  the  upper  re- 
gions of  the  atmosi)here  in  clouds  of  fantastic  appearance, 
reflecting  already  the  golden  rays  of  the  rising  sun. 
Broad  streaks  of  more  dense  fog  still  remained  gracefully 
poised  over  the  plains,  like  so  many  beds  of  the  whitest 
down,  and  surmounted  here  and  there  by  clumps  of 
taller  trees  and  hill-tops.  An  orange  tint  was  diffused 
from  the  solar  disk  not  yet  emerged  from  the  sea,  stilling 
the  ten'estrial  objects  in  silent  quietude,  as  they  were 
illumined  only  by  the  reflection  of  the  atmosphere.  The 
spectator's  eye  was  drawn  almost  unconsciously  toward 
the  place  of  the  rising  sun.     On  the  farthest  limit  of  the 


ETTOEE   FIERAMOSCA.  621 

sea,  a  spark  of  the  most  brilliant  light  seemed  to  be 
ignited ;  it  increased,  it  took  a  determined  form,  and  the 
sun  in  its  majesty  like  a  globe  of  fire  arose,  expanding  its 
raj^s,  giving  shape  and  color  to  the  objects,  and  doubled 
by  reflection  from  the  waters. 

A  squad  of  soldiers  on  foot,  placed  here  at  a  very 
early  hour,  kept  the  ground  free  from  the  people  who 
had  gathered  in  groups  all  around,  and  were  crowding 
more  densely  in  the  neighborhood  where  venders  of 
refreshments  and  wine  had  pitched  their  tents  and  placed 
seats  and  tables.  Among  the  rest  the  reader  might 
recognize  Venom,  the  keeper  of  the  tavern  of  The  Sun, 
who  had  already  fixed  his  ambulatory  establishment  in 
one  of  the  most  conspicuous  spots,  under  a  temporary 
arbor,  to  which  many  of  the  soldiers,  his  regular  custom- 
ers, had  already  resorted.  He  had  two  or  three  large 
frying-pans,  heated  on  portable  iron  stoves ;  a  table  made 
of  rough  boards  joined  together,  and  supported  by  short 
poles  driven  in  the  ground  which  stood  in  the  place 
of  legs,  was  crowded  with  huge  baskets  filled  with  fish, 
artichokes,  and  every  kind  of  vegetable.  There  he  was, 
with  two  aprons  and  a  white  cap,  all  fresh  from  the 
laundry,  with  his  shirt  sleeves  tucked  up  to  the  shoulder, 
holding  under  his  left  arm  a  long-handed  pipkin,  filled 
with  flour,  for  the  purpose  of  frying,  and  in  one  hand  a 
plate  with  raw  fish,  in  the  other  the  pinchers  to  take 
hold  of  it.  He  was  all  in  a  bustle  to  prepare  that  dish 
so  much  liked  by  the  southern  people  of  Italy.  He 
never  stopped  the  jabber  of  his  tongue.  He  laughed, 
put  and  answered  questions,  all  in  one  breath ;  and  only 
now  and  then  he  broke  the  conversation  either  to  sing 
La  Bella  Fr^anceschina,  or  to  halloo  at  the  top  of  his 
voice  :  "  O  !    what   sardines  !  —  What   sardines  !    O  !  — 

14* 


322  ETTOBE  FIERAMOSCA. 

The  mullets  are  alive !  —  Have  you  no  eyes,  or  have 
you  no  money ! "  and  the  like  urging  appeals,  which 
were  heard  at  half  a  mile's  distance.  At  last,  a  noise 
from  those  who  were  more  elevated  made  all  heads  look 
in  that  direction,  and  the  news  passed  around  that  the 
French  champions  were  in  sight.  In  a  few  minutes  they 
appeared  on  a  turn  of  the  road,  which  led  from  behind 
a  hill.  They  soon  reached  the  enclosure,  and  entering 
the  lists,  arranged  themselves  in  a  file  on  the  superior 
part  of  the  camp,  with  their  faces  turned  towards  the 
sea.  The  warriors,  and  some  one  hundred  companions 
and  friends  who  had  joined  the  train,  dismounted,  leaving 
the  horses  with  their  squires  and  grooms.  Then  they 
went  up  to  the  judges'  stand,  and  loitered  away  under 
the  holms,  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  the  Italians.  These 
were  hei-alded  by  a  whirlwind  of  dust  which  arose  on 
the  road  from  Barletta,  from  the  midst  of  which,  how- 
ever, the  flash  of  their  arms  could  be  seen.  Indeed,  it 
was  not  their  intention  to  keep  their  antagonists  long  wait- 
ing. The  crowds  which  up  to  tliis  time  had  been  roam- 
ing about  began  to  draw  near  the  palisade,  contending 
for  the  most  advanced  places,  although  the  soldiers  on 
guard  forced  the  swelling  crowd  back,  with  such  persua- 
sive arguments  as  on  such  occasions  are  at  the  command 
of  the  soldiery  —  in  the  form  of  the  handles  of  their 
pickaxes,  or  of  the  butts  of  their  halberds,  not  so  very 
gently  laid  down  on  the  ground,  and  occasionally  on  the 
spectator's  toe.  The  Italian  champions  halted  opposite 
their  opponents  in  the  same  order  as  the  French  had 
done  before,  and  having  dismounted,  repaired  also  to  the 
eminence  shaded  by  the  holms.  After  a  mutual  greeting 
and  the  usual  courtesies,  Signor  Prospero  and  Bayard, 
who   were   the   sponsors,   met    in    close   interview,   and 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  323 

resolved  that  before  all  it  was  necessary  to  draw  the 
lots  of  those  who  were  to  be  the  judges.  I  am  sure  the 
reader  will  wonder  how  it  was  that  such  a  brave  knight 
as  Bayard,  instead  of  being  one  of  the  combatants  on  an 
occasion  of  so  much  importance,  appeared  in  the  office 
of  sponsor.  Well  then,  I  will  tell  him  that  I  am  not  the 
less  astonished  myself,  and  I  cannot  guess  at  any  other 
reason  but  that,  perhaps,  he  was  suffering  from  some 
wound  not  yet  healed,  or  that  he  was  prevented  by  the 
quartana,  under  an  attack  of  wMch  he  was  laboring  at 
that  time,  and  had  weakened  him,  —  at  all  events  we  are 
sure  that  he  was  not  one  of  the  champions. 

Having  then  written  the  names  of  a  few  Spanish, 
French,  and  Italian  Caporali,  of  both  armies  in  equal 
numbers,  they  rolled  up  the  briefs,  and  placed  them  in 
a  helmet  to  be  tossed.  The  lot  fell  on  Fabrizio,  Colonna, 
Obigni,  and  Diego  Garcia  de  Paredes,  who  immediately 
took  the  seats  set  apart  for  them,  opened  on  the  table  the 
books  of  the  Evangelists,  and  administered  the  oath  to 
the  twenty-six  champions.  They  pledged  themselves 
not  to  use  any  fraud  in  the  combat ;  swore  that  they  had 
no  charms  on  their  bodies  or  on  their  arms,  and  that  they 
would  meet  the  chances  of  the  fight  trusting  only  their 
own  skill  and  natural  strength.  The  conditions  were 
then  read  again  by  a  herald ;  it  was  agreed  that  every 
man  could  ransom  himself,  his  arms,  and  his  horse  by 
the  payment  of  one  hundred  ducats.  One  of  the  Italians 
then  emptied  on  the  table  the  money  they  had  carried, 
counted  it,  and  gave  it  in  trust  to  the  judges.  It  was 
then  thought  that  the  French  would  do  the  same  ;  but  as 
they  did  not  move,  Prospero  Colonna,  as  gently  as  he 
could,  remarked,  —  "  And  your  money,  gentlemen  ?  " 
La  Motte  came   forward  and    answered,  with  a  smile  : 


324  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

"  Signer  Prospero,  you  will  see  that  we  have  enough 
here."  This  impertinent  boast  made  the  blood  rush  to 
the  face  of  the  Roman  baron  ;  but  he  restrained  himself, 
and  only  remarked :  "  Better  to  kill  the  bear  before 
you  sell  the  skin.  But  no  matter ;  though  it  was  mutu- 
ally agreed  that  the  ransom  was  to  be  deposited  before- 
hand, we  will  not  allow  even  this  to  be  any  hindrance  to 
the  battle.  Gentlemen,"  he  added,  addressing  his  men, 
"did  you  hear?  This  knight  looks  upon  the  affair  as 
settled.  It  is  but  fit  lliat  you  should  convince  him  of 
his  mistake."  We  deem  it  useless  to  remark  that  these 
contemptuous  manners  made  the  blood  boil  very  hot  in 
the  veins  of  the  Italians,  but  they  gave  no  other  answer 
to  either  Signor  Prospero  or  La  Motte  than  a  revengeful 
scowl  and  a  look  of  defiance. 

These  preliminaries  being  arranged,  the  judges  dis- 
missed the  champions,  and  half  an  hour  was  given  them 
to  get  ready.  A  corneter  on  horseback,  posted  under  the 
holms,  would  give  three  blasts,  the  signal  of  the  onset. 

They  returned  to  their  horses  and  mounted  them.  Tlie 
sponsors  placed  them  at  four  feet  from  each  other,  and 
both  Colonna  and  Bayard  again  examined  the  bits,  the 
saddle-girts,  the  straps  and  buckles  of  the  armor; — and 
theirs  were  the  best  experienced  eyes  of  the  two  armies. 

The  review  being  over,  Signor  Prospero  halted  his 
horse  in  the  middle  before  the  line  of  his  party,  and  with 
a  loud  voice  said :  "  Gentlemen,  do  not  expect  me  to  en- 
courage you  to  meet  the  struggle  in  a  manner  worthy  of 
you.  I  see  Lombards,  Neapolitans,  Romans,  Sicilians  in 
your  midst.  Are  you  not  all  sons  of  one  Italy  ?  Will 
not  the  honor  of  the  victory  be  awarded  equally  to  you 
all  ?  Are  you  not  here  before  foreigners  who  brand  you 
Italians  as  cowards  ?     Only  one  word  will  I  speak :  see 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  325 

yonder  the  infamous  traitor,  Graiano  d'Asti  ?  He  comes 
to  the  battle  field  to  fasten  infamy  on  the  brow  of  his 
brethren !  Understand  me  !  let  him  not  leave  the  field 
alive ! " 

Fieraraosca  whispered  to  Brancaleone  who  stood  by 
him :  "  Were  I  not  under  oath  !  "  And  Brancaleone  an- 
swered :  "  Leave  it  to  me !  I  have  no  vows.  I  know  the 
vulnerable  spot  of  his  body  !  " 

Brancaleone,  from  the  day  he  had  listened  to  the  adven- 
tures of  his  friend,  had  a  great  desire  to  kill  Graiano, 
and  thereby  to  sweep  from  his  way  the  only  obstacle  to 
his  union  with  Ginevra.  Then  knowing  that  he  was  to 
be  one  of  the  Italian  champions,  he  saw  an  opportunity 
for  satisfying  his  wishes. 

Our  reader  remembers  Avhat  information  he  had  ob- 
tained the  day  of  the  tournament,  when  Graiano  was  get- 
ting ready  near  the  amphitheatre.  But  now  the  unex- 
pected end  of  Ginevra  had  blasted  his  former  hopes. 
However,  he  had  not  given  up  the  idea,  and  the  desire  to 
carry  it  out  was  greatly  enhanced  by  the  words  of  Signor 
Prospero,  to  whom,  as  to  the  head  of  the  Colonna  party, 
he  exhibited  a  blind  obedience  in  every  thing. 

By  this  time  the  sponsors  had  withdrawn  to  their 
places :  Bayard  near  the  judges  and  Colonna  under  the 
holms.  The  latter  was  mounted  on  a  black  horse,  housed 
in  vermilion  cloth  embroidered  with  gold ;  he  was  armed 
at  all  points  except  at  the  head,  which  he  held  up  before 
his  men,  full  of  majesty  and  boldness,  quietly  waiting  the 
signal  of  the  battle.  He  had  at  his  side  his  page,  a 
handsome  youth  of  sixteen,  in  a  dress  of  sky-blue,  and 
carmine  hose ;  he  had,  besides,  several  military  attend- 
ants in  different  capacities,  who,  although  motionless  as 
statues,  still  betrayed  souls  fired  with  energetic  and  mar- 


326  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

tial  spirit.  .  As  the  time  advanced,  the  talking  became 
fainter  and  less  frequent ;  only  a  broken  word  was  now 
and  then  uttered  in  a  whisper. 

The  assemblage  presented  a  solemn  and  grave  appear- 
ance in  its  stillness,  interrupted  only  now  and  then  by  the 
restless  pawing  and  neighing  of  the  horses,  which,  hav- 
ing been  long  kept  at  rest  and  highly  fed,  now  could  be 
scarcely  held  within  the  line,  and  champed  the  long 
golden  bits,  bespattered  them  with  froth,  and  arched  their 
necks  and  tails ;  they  reared,  snorted,  and  puffed  with 
expanded  and  bloodshot  nostrils,  and  their  eyes  flashed 
like  fire. 

Jt  is  not  so  very  easy  to  form  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
martial  appearance  of  a  man-at-arms  of  those  days,  as 
both  he  and  liis  war-horse  were  accoutred  in  iron  from 
head  to  foot.  The  knight  with  clasped  visor,  sheathed  in 
his  armor,  with  a  shield  on  his  breast  and  a  lance  on  the 
thigh,  bestrode  a  saddle  with  high  bolsters  in  front  and 
behind,  like  two  guards,  from  which  it  was  almost  impos- 
sible to  fall ;  thus  encased,  and  setting  his  knees  firm  and 
close,  he  adhered  to  his  steed  so  that  the  horse's  move- 
ments were  communicated  to  the  rider,  just  as  we  imagine 
it  should  be  in  the  double  nature  of  a  Centaur.  The 
horse  had  the  front  and  sides  of  his  head  protected  by  an 
iron  headpiece,  in  which  only  two  openings  were  lefl  for 
the  eyes ;  an  iron  spike  projected  from  the  middle  of  the 
front ;  the  neck,  shoulders,  and  breast  covered  hkewise 
with  small  plates  lapping  over  one  another  like  ecales,  so 
interwoven  as  to  allow  a  free  movement  to  the  limbs  ; 
lastly,  an  armor  of  like  texture  covered  the  crupper, 
haunches,  and  sides  of  the  steed,  leaving  only  an  opening 
for  the  })laying  of  the  spurs.  Thus  the  handsome  feat- 
ures of  the  noble  animals  were  so  disfigured   by  that 


ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA.  327 

cumbrous  war  furniture  as  to  make  them  resemble,  from 
the  legs  upward,  a  herd  of  rhinoceroses.  To  look  at 
them  as  they  stood,  you  would  think  they  could  not  move, 
and  much  less  run  ;  but  the  least  twitch  of  the  bridle  or 
a  touch  from  the  rider's  heel,  found  them  as  ready  and 
supple  as  if  they  had  no  encumbrance  of  armor,  so  in- 
geniously were  the  plates  put  together. 

A  steel  mace  and  a  pickaxe  hanging  on  one  side  of 
the  saddle,  together  with  the  lance,  sword,  and  poniard 
which  every  knight  carried  on  his  person,  completed  their 
arms.  The  Italians  were  famous  in  the  use  of  the  mace 
and  axe.  In  ornamenting  themselves  they  followed  their 
own  pleasure  or  caprice ;  the  helmets  were  generally 
decked  with  a  cluster  of  plumes  surmounted  by  a  tall 
feather  from  the  tail  of  a  peacock.  Some,  instead  of 
feathers,  had  jagged  lists  of  silk,  called  in  French  lam- 
hrequins.  Some  wore  cloaks  and  some  shoulder-belts, 
and  those  who  had  armor  of  fine  workmanship  and 
rich,  left  it  uncovet*ed.  Even  the  horses  had  on  their 
heads  plumes  or  other  ornaments,  and  the  reins  were 
sometimes  of  a  span's  width,  made  with  festoons  and  of 
gaudy  colors ;  the  cost  and  the  materials  of  the  reins 
alone  were  often  of  great  value.  On  the  shields,  besides 
the  knight's  own  coat-of-arms,  the  Italians  bore  mottoes 
befitting  the  occasion,  as,  for  instance,  that  of  Fieramos- 
ca  —  Quid  possit  pateat  saltern  nunc  Itala  virtus. 

At  last  the  herald  advanced  to  the  centre  of  the  camp, 
and  loudly  proclaimed  that  none  should  dare  by  word,  cry 
or  action  to  favor  or  interfere  with  either  party ;  then  as 
he  had  regained  the  judges'  stand,  the  trumpet  gave  the 
first  sound  —  then  the  second  .  .  .  you  might  have  heard 
the  flapping  of  a  fly's  wing  .  .  .  then  the  third ;  and  the 
knights  simultaneously  slackening  the  reins,  bending  over 


328  ETTORE    FIERAMOSCA. 

the  horses'  necks,  setting  spurs  to  their  flanks  so  violently 
as  to  lift  them  from  the  ground,  started  out  against  their 
opponents,  bounding  at  first,  then  galloping  at  fuU  speed; 
one  band  shouting  "  Viva  T Italia"  and  the  other  "  Vive 
la  France"  —  the  yell  reechoing  from  the  sea. 

The  sjiace  between  the  two  parties  was  about  four  hun- 
dred feet.  The  dust  began  to  rise  slowly,  it  increased,  it 
became  more  dense,  and  covered  them  ere  they  met ;  and 
thus  enveloped  as  if  in  a  cloud,  they  dashed  against  one 
another,  their  horses  clashing  with  each  other's  fronts, 
the  knights  shivering  their  lances  against  the  shields  and 
cuirasses  of  their  adversaries,  with  a  shock  not  unlike 
that  of  a  huge  mass  of  rocks,  which  falling  down  a  de- 
clivity meets  no  obstacle  at  first,  but  all  of  a  sudden  strikes 
upon  a  forest  of  trees,  breaks  its  way  thi'ough  them,  and 
tears,  uproots,  destroys  every  thing  in  its  way.  The 
spectators  could  not  witness  the  first  onset ;  in  that 
confused  and  dusty  mass  of  men  and  horses,  they  could 
scarcely  distinguish  the  flash  of  the  arms  reflecting  the 
sun,  and  the  plumage  torn  by  the  fury  of  the  sword,  fly- 
ing about  in  that  tumult,  and  wafted  away  by  the  breath 
of  the  wind.  The  clash  of  arms  reechoed  from  the 
valley  around.  Diego  Garcia,  admiring  those  brave  and 
manly  deeds  and  mad  with  disappointment  for  not  be- 
ing in  the  melee  himself,  struck  the  thigh  with  his  fist ; 
and  this  was  the  only  movement  to  be  noticed  among  the 
astonished  and  silent  spectators. 

The  w  arriors  remained  thus  mixed  up  for  a  few  seconds, 
when  a  narrower  streak  of  glare,  now  and  then  reflected 
from  their  midst  and  flashing  through  the  dust,  showed 
pretty  clearly  that  the  warriors  were  engaged  with  swords  ; 
and  that  rattling  of  arms,  that  incessant  hammei'ing,  re- 
sembled the  noise  of  men  workiii":  on  a  score  of  anvils. 


ETTOKE  FIERAMOSCA.  329 

Like  an  artificial  fire  veiled  in  part  by  smoke,  that  mass 
was  glittering  and  quivering  with  a  sparkling  light,  —  so 
rapid  were  the  movements  according  as  it  swayed  one 
side  or  the  other,  opened  or  closed,  or  wheeled  around  in 
complicated  evolutions. 

The  anxiety  to  find  out  to  whom  belonged  the  honor 
of  victory  had  become  so  intense,  that  it  seemed  almost 
out  of  the  question  for  the  people  to  contain  themselves 
any  longer.  Already  a  swelling  whispering  could  be 
heard,  but  it  was  speedily  suppressed  by  signs  from  the 
heralds,  as  well  as  by  the  sight  of  a  horse  rushing  madly 
out  of  the  melee,  and  so  thickly  covered  with  dust  as  to  hide 
the  color  of  the  saddle  entirely ;  —  running  over  the  field  in 
half  gallop,  he  dragged  tlie  torn  bridle  between  his  hoofs, 
and  trampling  on  it,  now  with  one  foot  and  then  with  the 
other,  he  checked  himself  miserably,  giving  violent  jerks 
to  his  head,  right  and  left,  in  continual  danger  of  falling. 
A  stream  of  dark  blood  gushed  from  a  large  wound  over 
his  shoulder,  and  trailed  an  ensanguined  track  on  the 
ground  ;  after  a  few  bounds  he  fell  on  his  knees  exhausted 
and  rolled  over  on  the  dust.  Every  one  recognized  him 
as  belonging  to  the  French  party. 

The  champions  in  the  meantime  had  formed  into  pairs 
and  fought  with  swords ;  thus  arranged  by  twos,  they 
struck  and  parried  with  great  address,  incessantly  wheeled 
around  to  take  their  aim,  and  thereby  more  room  was 
given  to  the  struggle  which  at  first  had  been  so  close ; 
and  the  dust,  dispelled  by  the  wind,  hid  the  combatants  no 
more.  Then  every  one  saw  that  the  unhorsed  knight 
was  Martellin  de  Lambris.  The  Frenchman,  unluckily 
for  him,  had  been  singled  out  by  FanfuUa,  who  with  his 
fui-y  so  mad,  and  yet  so  skilful  and  so  sure  in  its  aim,  hit 
the  knight  on  the  visor,  holding  the  lance  to  the  bars  so 


330  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

as  to  push  him  backward  the  whole  length  of  it,  and  sent 
him  to  feel  how  soft  the  ground  was ;  and  as  he  hit  the 
masterly  blow  shouted  with  a  voice  that  drowned  all  the 
noise  around  :  "  There  goes  one  ! "  —  and  then  turning 
to  La  Motte,  who  by  a  thrust  from  Fieramosca  had  lost  one 
stirrup,  he  continued  in  the  same  tone:  "The  money 
will  not  be  enough  .  .  .  the  money  isn't  enough.  .  1  . " 
When  the  crowd  had  become  thinned,  he  said  to  the 
vanquished  Frenchman  :  "  Thou  art  my  prisoner  .  .  . !  " 
but  the  man  rose  on  his  feet,  and  his  only  reply  was  a 
thrust,  which  scratched  the  polished  armor  of  the  hero 
from  Lodi.  To  lift  his  sword  with  both  his  hands  and 
bestow  a  blow  with  it  on  the  helmet  of  his  foe,  was  but 
the  work  of  a  moment.  Lambris  was  already  shattered 
by  the  fall,  and  could  hardly  keep  on  his  feet ;  and  Fan- 
fulla  laid  another  blow  on  him,  and  another,  and  another, 
every  time  yelling :  "  the  money  is  not  enough  .  .  .  not 
enough  .  .  .  not  enough  .  .  . ; "  and  the  effort  of  the 
blow  made  him  utter  the  words  with  that  sort  of  appog- 
giatura  which  we  hear  issuing  from  the  lungs  of  a  wood- 
cutter swinging  his  axe  and  lodging  it  on  the  block  he  is 
chopping. 

That  champion  could  never  regain  his  standing  under 
those  blows  laid  on  him  with  so  much  power ;  he  fell 
upon  the  ground  almost  senseless,  but  he  would  not  ask 
quarter ;  so  Fanfulla  becoming  enraged,  gave  the  last  cut, 
just  as  the  Frenchman  endeavored  to  rest  on  his  knee, 
and  laid  him  flat  on  the  earth,  saying,  — 

"  Will  that  do  ?  " 

Bayard  seeing  that  the  soldier  would  have  been  killed 
to  no  purpose,  dispatched  a  king-at-arms,  who  crossed  his 
mace  betwixt  the  two  combatants,  and  loudly  exclaimed : 
*'  Martellin  de  Lambris  prisonnier."     Some  of  the  pur- 


ETTORE  FIEKAMOSCA.  331 

suivants  ran  to  help  him  up,  and  supported  by  them  he 
was  led  to  Signor  Prospei'o's  presence. 

"  God  bless  thy  arras  !  "  he  shouted  to  the  conqueror  ; 
then  he  directed  some  of  his  squires  to  take  under  guard 
the  French  baron,  who  however  would  not  allow  himself 
to  be  unhelmeted,  but  threw  himself  under  an  oak  where 
he  laid  silent  and  motionless. 

Fanfulla  wheeled  his  horse  around,  spurred  him  at 
half  gallop  toAvards  the  battle,  and  was  looking  all  around 
for  something  to  do ;  and  meanwhile,  as  if  to  amuse  him- 
self, he  flourished  his  sword  with  every  kind  of  bold  and 
fantastic  movement,  in  which  sort  of  exercise  he  was 
held  to  be  the  most  skilful  and  quickest  hand  in  the  army. 
From  a  general  survey  of  the  ground,  he  at  once  per- 
ceived that  fortune  was  not  on  the  enemy's  side,  and  that 
the  Italian  men-at-arms  were  doing  their  duty  well. 
Then  raising  his  voice  higher  than  ever,  he  called  out 
La  Motto's  name,  and  struck  again  the  old  key :  "  the 
money  isn't  enough,"  which  he  sang  to  the  tune  of  a  very 
popular  air  sung  then  by  blind  people  in  the  streets. 
And  what  with  the  careless  and  buffoonlike  way  he 
had  of  riding,  the  admirable  flourishes,  carried  on  as 
it  were  for  self-amusement,  and  the  tone  of  his  voice, 
his  mimicry  had  such  an  air  of  frolic  grotesqueness  that 
even  the  stern  countenance  of  Signor  Prosper©  relaxed 
into  a  smile. 

While  this  first  victory  was  being  achieved,  Ettore 
Fieramosca  had  with  his  lance  made  La  Motte  lose  one 
stirrup,  but  had  not  been  able  as  yet  to  unhorse  him. 
La  Motte  was  far  superior  to  FanfuUa's  prisoner  in 
strength  and  address.  Fieramosca,  feeling  jealous  of  the 
honor  reaped  by  his  brother,  began  to  work  with  his 
sword  so  that  the    despiser  of  the  Italftms,  with  all  his 


332  ETTORE  FIEEAMOSCA. 

skill,  could  scarcely  hold  against  him.  Fieramosca  at 
that  moment  remembered  the  galling  insult  oflFered  by  La 
Motte  at  the  supper,  when  he  said  that  a  Frenchman 
would  not  deign  to  hire  an  Italian  to  do  a  boy's  work 
in  a  stable  ;  and  while  he  was  showering  his  thrusts  and 
cuts,  unnailing  and  rending  the  enemy's  armor,  and  at 
times  wounding  him,  he  repeated  with  a  sneer :  — 

"  At  least  we  can  handle  the  currycomb  ?  help  thyself, 
help  thyself;  here  deeds  are  needed,  not  words." 

The  Frenchman,  stung  by  the  galling  taunt,  aimed  a 
blow  at  the  head  of  his  antagonist  with  so  much  force, 
that  Ettore,  not  being  in  time  to  cover  himself  with  the 
shield,  tried  to  parry  it  with  the  sword ;  but  the  weapon 
was  not  stout  enough,  it  broke  into  shivers,  and  the 
Frenchman's  blow  fell  on  his  neck,  severing  the  collar 
of  the  breastplate,  and  inflicting  a  wound  a  little  above 
the  collar-bone.  Fieramosca  did  not  wait  to  give  him 
another  chance  ;  but  stooping  a  little,  and  passing  his 
arms  around  the  champion's  waist,  strove  to  drag  him 
down ;  but  the  Frenchman  let  the  sword  go,  and  struggled 
to  free  himself.  It  was  just  what  Ettore  wished  him  to 
do  ;  he  let  go  his  hold,  and  before  La  Motte  had  time  to 
grasp  the  sword  again,  he  spurred  his  horse,  making  him 
dart  one  side,  and  thus  having  a  chance  to  snatch  the 
mace  that  hung  from  the  saddle,  he  fell  with  it  upon  his 
adversary  again. 

The  good  horse  of  Fieramosca  had  been  trained  to 
every  kind  of  manoeuvre ;  and  now  warned  by  a  light 
twitch  of  the  bridle  and  a  touch  of  the  spur,  he  rose  on 
his  hind  legs,  arching  his  back  like  a  ram  that  wishes  to 
butt,  and  bounded  forward,  only  so  far,  however,  as  to 
place  the  opponent  within  his  master's  reach.  Noticing 
how  skilfully  th  *  steed  managed   his   part,  Fieramosca 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  333 

thought :  —  I  have  clone  well  indeed  to  take  thee  along  !  — 
and  he  used  the  mace  with  so  much  skill  that  he  fairly 
gained  over  his  antagonist  the  advantage  he  had  lost. 

The  honor  of  the  battle,  if  not  the  decisive  victory- 
even,  might  have  been  decided  by  the  struggle  of  these 
two  champions,  Avho  were  looked  upon  as  the  best  swords 
of  the  two  armies.  It  would  have  covered  La  Motte 
with  double  shame,  as  he  had  expressed  so  much  con- 
tempt for  the  Itahans,  and  it  would  have  crowned  Fiera- 
mosca  with  double  glory.  His  companions,  well  satisfied 
that  he  was  a  good  match  for  the  Frenchman,  took  par- 
ticular care  not  to  interfere  ;  and  the  Frenchmen  very 
carefully  avoided  to  lend  any  help  to  their  champion, 
that  it  should  not  be  said  that,  after  so  much  boasting, 
even  one  Italian  should  be  too  much  for  him.  Even 
more,  as  by  a  common  impulse  and  almost  unconsciously, 
both  parties  suspended  their  fighting  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  looked  with  amazement  on  the  two  cliampions.  But 
they,  spurred  by  such  thoughts  as  we  have  just  mentioned, 
were  mad  with  a  desire  of  victory,  and  fought  so  furi- 
ously, always  on  the  alert  against  mishaps,  ever  ready  to 
catch  opportunities,  that  their  encounter  might  indeed  be 
called  a  model  of  knightly  art. 

Diego  Garcia  de  Paredes,  who  had  been  a  soldier  his 
whole  life,  was  amazed  at  the  great  skill  displayed  in  that 
conflict,  and  unable  to  control  himself  any  longer,  had 
risen ;  then  advancing  to  the  edge  of  the  bluff,  which 
overlooked  the  lists,  he  watched  them  with  an  intense 
eagerness.  Seen  from  afar,  as  he  stood  with  that  gigantic 
trunk  set  on  two  herculean  legs,  and  his  arms  carelessly 
hanging  down,  he  seemed  a  motionless  statue  ;  however, 
those  who  were  near  him  well  knew  how  disappointed  he 
felt  with  his  situation  of  a  mere  spectator,  as  the  contrac- 


334  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

tion  of  his  muscles  so  perceptible  under  the  close  fitting 
skin  garment,  the  clenched  fist,  and  above  all  the  flashing 
eye,  betrayed  the  emotions  of  his  soul. 

Fanfulla,  having  left  Signor  Prospero,  was  galloping 
over  the  lists,  and  seemed  not  at  all  governed  by  those 
considerations  and  motives  which  animated  the  other 
champions.  He  spurred  his  horse,  and  came  upon  La 
Motte  with  uplifted  sword.  Ettore  saw  it,  and  cried  — 
avaunt !  but,  as  the  command  was  imheeded,  he  dashed 
his  horse  athwart  against  that  of  the  Lodigian,  and  with 
the  butt  of  his  mace  bestowed  a  blow  on  his  breast, 
which  made  him  rein  up  abruptly  and  against  his  will. 

"  I  am  a  match  for  him,  and  even  more,"  added  Ettore, 
in  a  passion  of  anger. 

Ettore's  courtesy  towards  La  Motte  won  him  the  praise 
of  all,  except  Fanfulla,  who,  breaising  out  with  one  of 
those  Italian  exclamations  which  cannot  be  expressed  in 
writing,  rejoined,  half  joking,  half  angry  :  — 

"  Thy  tongue  is  in  thy  hands  ! " 

He  gave  the  horse  a  demivolt,  and  madly  dashing 
amongst  the  adversaries,  be  broke  their  ranks,  without, 
however,  assailing  any  one  in  particular  ;  thus,  that 
momentary  lull  being  broken  up,  the  fighting  was  re- 
sumed more  furiously  than  ever. 

From  the  onset,  Brancaleone  had  singled  for  his  antag- 
onist Graiano  d'Asti,  and  the  chances  had  as  yet  been 
even.  The  lances  being  broken,  they  fought  with  swords, 
and  still  neither  party  had  any  decisive  advantage.  Bran- 
caleone was  perhaps  superior  to  Graiano  in  strength,  and 
even  in  dexterity ;  but  the  Piedmontese  champion  was 
superior  to  all  in  knowing  the  advantage  of  rapid  move- 
ment ;  and  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  art  of  fenc- 
ing can  value  this  quality. 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  335 

The  tide  of  battle  flowed  equally  between  the  other 
champions,  as  either  of  the  parties  prevailed.  Al- 
though the  contest  had  lasted  only  about  one  hour  and 
a  half,  it  had,  however,  been  so  obstinate  and  fiierce,  that 
it  was  evident  that  both  men  and  horses  needed  some 
rest ;  and  accordingly  the  judges  granted  it  of  common 
accord.  The  trumpet  sounded  the  signal,  and  the  kings- 
at-arms  crossed  their  lances  betwixt  the  combatants  and 
separated  them. 

A  murmur  arose  among  the  crowd  around  the  lists,  not 
unlike  that  which  we  hear  in  a  theatre  when  the  curtain 
falls  after  a  representation  which  has  riveted  the  atten- 
tion of  a  large  audience.  The  champions  retreated  to 
the  two  extremities  and  alighted ;  some  removed  their 
helmets  to  cool  their  brows  and  wipe  off  the  perspira- 
tion ;  some  finding  parts  of  their  armor  or  of  the  accou- 
trements of  their  horses  damaged,  contrived  to  mend 
them.  The  steeds,  shaking  their  manes,  and  grinding 
their  jawbones,  sought  relief  from  the  pain  occasioned 
by  the  pulling  of  the  bridles.  Feeling  the  burden  of  the 
knights  no  more  on  their  backs,  they  planted  themselves 
on  their  forefeet,  and  with  lowered  heads  they  shook 
their  limbs  several  times,  making  the  armor  ring. 

But  the  venders  of  fruit  and  refreshments  having  fresh 
lungs,  sang  out  louder  and  louder  the  praises  of  their 
goods ;  and  the  two  sponsors,  spurring  their  horses,  ad- 
vanced to  greet  their  champions. 

The  honor  of  the  day  was  thus  far  awarded  to  the 
Italians,  as  one  of  the  opposite  party  had  been  made 
prisoner,  and  the  rest  of  the  French  champions  had  been 
either  wounded  or  badly  used.  Among  those  who  had 
staked  on  the  success  of  either  party,  such  as  stood 
pledged    for    the    French   began    to    feel    considerably 


336  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA- 

damped  and  dispirited.  The  good  Bayard  was  too  ex- 
perienced a  champion  of  the  Usts  not  to  feel  that  the 
fortune  of  the  field  was  likely  to  be  adverse  to  his  party. 
With  a  stout  countenance,  however,  and  betraying  not 
the  least  fear,  he  encouraged  them,  arranged  them  in 
their  ranks,  and  reminded  them  of  the  general  arts  of  a 
contest,  how  to  strike  and  how  to  parry. 

Prospero  Colonna  saw  that  his  men  were  not  so  much 
in  need  of  rest,  as  they  had  not  been  so  much  strained  as 
the  opposite  party ;  and,  therefore,  after  half  an  hoar  of 
respite,  he  requested  that  the  champions  should  resume 
the  battle.  Accordingly,  the  marshals  gave  the  signaL 
The  horses  were  still  panting  fix)m  the  previous  struggle ; 
but  the  warriors  dashed  the  spurs  into  their  flanks,  and 
off  the  animals  rushed  against  each  other.  It  seemed  as 
if  victory  might  be  decided  in  a  fe'v  moments ;  the  silence 
was  deadly ;  the  spectators  were  motionless ;  the  excite- 
ment and  fury  of  the  combatants  had  reached  the  high- 
est pitch.  The  gay  mantles,  the  plumage,  and  all  kinds 
of  ornaments  flew  shattered  in  atoms,  or  were  stained 
with  blood  or  dust.  The  blue  scarf  of  Fieramosca  was 
seen  hanging  from  his  side  cut  in  twain  by  a  blow  from 
a  sword ;  his  helmet  was  shorn  of  its  plumes,  and  flat- 
tened, but  he  was  still  fresh  and  strong,  having  only  a 
slight  wound  on  his  neck,  and  he  bore  down  upon  La 
Motte  with  renewed  animosity.  Fanfulla  was  measuring 
his  strength  with  Jacques  de  Guignes.  Brancaleone  was 
again  engaged  with  Graiano,  always  aiming  at  the  hel- 
met, while  the  rest  in  the  Italian  ranks  were  fighting 
Hhe  other  French  champions,  and  belaboring  them  most 
obstinately. 

A  sudden  shout  from  the  spectators  turned  the  atten- 
tion even  of  the  combatants  to  the  struggle  between  Bran- 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  337 

caleone  and  Graiano  ;  it  was  now  ended.  The  latter  was 
bent  over  the  horse,  with  both  helmet  and  skull  cleft, 
the  blood  streaming  over  his  armor,  and  over  the  shoul- 
ders and  legs  of"  the  horse,  Avhose  every  step  was  marked 
in  gore.  At  last  he  rolled  over,  and  his  fall  sounded 
like  the  crash  of  a  heap  of  old  iron  dashed  on  the  ground. 
Brancaleone  uplifted  the  bleeding  battle-axe,  whirled  it 
over  his  head,  and  exclaimed  in  a  manly  and  terrible 
voice ;  — 

''  Viva  ritalia  I  and  so  be  it  ever  with  accursed  trai- 
tors." Thus  emboldened,  he  dashed  into  the  thick  of  the 
battle  where  the  French  soldiers  were  defending  them- 
selves desperately,  bestowing  blows  with  both  hands  right 
and  left.  But  the  struggle  did  not  last  long.  Graiano's  fall 
seemed  to  have  turned  the  scale  in  favor  of  the  Italians. 
Fieramosca,  almost  frantic  with  anger  at  the  long  and 
obstinate  defence  of  La  Motte,  doubled  the  strength  of 
his  blows  with  so  much  rapidity,  that  he  bewildered  and 
stunned  his  antagonist.  The  Frenchman  had  lost  his 
buckler,  had  only  a  broken  sword  to  defend  himself  with, 
and  his  armor  was  unhinged,  disconnected,  and  shattered. 
At  last  Ettore  bestowed  on  his  neck  a  blow  with  the 
battle-axe,  so  powerful  that  La  Motte  reeled  over  the 
bolsters  of  the  saddle,  and  for  a  moment  lost  his  eyesight 

Before  he  had  time  to  recover,  Fieramosca,  who  was 
at  his  right,  swung  the  shield  behind  his  shoulders, 
grasped  with  the  left  hand  the  thongs  which  fastened  La 
Motte's  breast  plate,  and  pressing  his  knees,  dashed  the 
spurs  into  the  flanks  of  the  horse.  The  animal  plunged 
forward,  and  thus  the  French  knight  was  violently  dragged 
from  the  saddle.  As  he  lay  on  the  ground,  Ettore  sprang 
from  his  horse,  and  stood  over  him  with  unsheathed  dag- 
ger ;  then  pointing  it  so  near  his  forehead  as  almost  to 
16 


338  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

touch  him,  commanded  him  in  a  voice  of  thunder :  "  yield 
thyself,  or  I'll  finish  thee."  The  baron,  still  half  uncon- 
scious, answered  not ;  that  silence  might  have  cost  him  his 
life,  had  not  Bayard  interfered  and  declared  him  prisoner. 

After  La  Motte  had  been  removed  by  his  attendants, 
and  led  before  Signor  Prospero,  Fieramosca  turned  to 
regain  his  horse;  but  it  had  disappeared;  and  looking 
around  he  saw  Giraud  de  Forses,  one  of  the  enemy's 
band,  who  having  had  his  horse  killed  under  him,  had 
taken  that  of  the  Italian,  and  was  still  fighting.  Good 
Ettore  felt  that  alone  and  on  foot  he  could  never  recover 
his  horse.  But  he  had  nursed  and  reared  him  with  his 
own  hands,  and  he  was  trained  to  obey  and  follow  his 
master's  call ;  endeavoring  then  to  go  as  near  to  the  horse 
as  possible,  he  began  to  call  his  name,  at  the  same  time 
striking  his  foot  on  the  ground  as  he  was  wont  to  do  when 
he  went  to  give  him  oats.  The  animal  recognized  the  call, 
and  turned  to  see  whence  it  came  ;  but  the  rider  opposed 
its  movements,  and  the  horse  began  to  rear,  and  then  to 
plunge,  and  then  to  bound,  so  that  the  rider  could  not  con- 
trol him,  and  he  was  forced  in  spite  of  himself  to  go  over 
to  the  camp  of  the  Italians,  who  made  a  prisoner  of  him 
without  any  blow  from  their  swords.  The  Frenchman 
dismounted,  cursing  his  evil  luck,  and  Fieramosca  leaped 
on  his  favorite  steed  ;  but  holding  by  the  point  the  sword 
which  had  been  taken  from  the  Fi-ench  knight,  returned 
it  to  him,  saying  :  — 

"  God  help  thee,  brother ;  take  thine  arms  and  go  with 
tliine,  because  we  take  our  pi'isoners  by  dint  of  battle, 
not  by  the  arts  of  tricksters." 

The  Frenchman  was  taken  by  surprise,  as  he  had  no 
hope  whatever  of  such  quarter.  After  one  moment's 
pause,  he  replied  :  — 


ETTOEE    FIERAMOSCA.  339 

"  If  I  do  not  avow  myself  conquered  by  your  arms,  I 
am  vanquished  by  your  courtesy  ;  "  and  taking  the  sword 
at  half  blade,  he  went  to  lay  it  at  the  feet  of  Signor 
Prospero ;  and  it  was  remarked  by  all  who  praised  Fie- 
raraosca's  courtesy,  that  the  Frenchman  also  had  acted 
like  a  noble  knight  and  true.  And  for  this  reason  he  was 
not  made  to  pay  any  ransom  afterwards. 

The  French  ranks  had  lost  four  of  their  best  lances, 
while  the  thirteen  Italians  were  all  still  mounted.  It  was 
easy  to  foresee  with  whom  the  honor  of  the  day  would 
remain.  Nevertheless  the  Frenchmen,  who  had  been 
unhorsed  (they  were  five)  closed  together,  and  having 
at  their  flanks  the  four  knights  on  horseback,  two  on 
each  side,  prepared  themselves  in  that  attitude  to  offer 
resistance  to  the  Italians  again.  The  latter  rallied  for 
the  third  time  for  an  attack  made  by  all  simultaneously. 

Not  one  among  the  spectators  had  the  least  thought  or 
expectation  that  the  French  party  could  stand  the  shock ; 
but  still  admiring  the  perseverance  and  address  of  those 
brave  knights,  their  curiosity  was  shai'pened  into  anxiety 
to  see  the  result  of  their  last  movement ;  and  some  even 
wished  that  so  much  valor  should  not  be  perilled  against 
such  odds,  to  the  imminent  risk  of  their  lives.  But  the 
French  seemed  not  to  have  any  fear  of  that ;  —  trodden 
under  foot,  wounded,  covered  with  dust  and  blood,  they 
j^till  offered  a  fearful  and  honorable  sight  as  they  boldly 
stood  there  prepared  to  be  crushed  by  so  many  horses 
which  came  dashing  upon  them,  and  seemed  deter- 
mined to  grind  them  to  atoms.  At  last  the  Italians 
started,  but  not  with  the  former  speed ;  the  horses  were 
too  tired,  and  some  of  them  had  their  mouths  covered 
with  foam  and  blood  from  the  too  violent  pulling  of  the 
bridles.     The  knights   shouted  louder   than   ever,  Viva 


340  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

V Italia  !  and  in  spite  of  the  spurs  the  horses  galloped  only 
heavily,  and  with  some  reluctance.  Notwithstanding  the 
rules  made  known  at  the  beginning,  the  anxious  curiosity 
of  the  spectators  was  raised  to  so  high  a  pitch,  that  the 
boundary  set  at  first  for  the  spectators  was  broken,  and 
the  circle  became  narrower  every  moment.  The  pur- 
suivants and  squires  who  were  charged  with  the  duty  of 
preserving  order,  forgot  every  thing  else,  and  were  led 
by  curiosity  to  advance  with  the  crowd  in  their  concentric 
movement.  Thus  we  have  often  seen  in  the  public  streets, 
when  a  bull  has  broken  loose,  the  people  at  first  keep  at 
a  safe  distance,  but  if  a  dog  takes  hold  of  an  ear,  and  an- 
other has  indented  its  teeth  into  its  hide,  and  the  beast  is 
almost  brought  to  a  stand,  all  leave  their  places,  the 
shouts  are  louder,  the  tumult  is  greater,  every  thing  is  in 
confusion,  since  every  one  pushes  forward  to  have  a  better 
view. 

Fieramosca,  who  had  the  best  horse,  rode  in  the  centre 
of  the  new  ranks  ;  and  he  was  flanked  on  both  sides 
by  his  companions  who  were  ranged  according  to  the 
greater  power  of  their  horses,  —  those  who  had  better 
or  swifter  horses  being  nearer  to  his  person.  Thus  they 
approached  the  enemy,  their  body  having  the  shape  of  a 
cone,  the  apex  of  which  was  Fieramosca.  Their  closely 
serried  onset  was  so  directed  that  when  they  arrived 
within  arm's  length,  they  broke  through  the  i*anks  of  the 
French,  who  were  unable  to  withstand  the  shock.  But 
here  a  new  struggle  began,  more  close,  more  terrible  than 
the  former  ones.  The  numbers,  the  valor,  the  skill  of 
the  Italians  were  met  by  efforts  almost  superhuman,  by 
the  struggles  of  despair,  by  the  fury  arising  from  the 
consciousness  of  a  dishonor  imminent  and  inevitable.  The 
valiant  and  unfortunate  Frenchmen,  in  a  cloud  of  dust, 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  341 

were  falling  bleeding  under  the  hoofs  of  the  horses,  and 
made  efforts  to  rise,  grasping  the  stirrups  of  the  knights, 
the  bridles  of  the  conquerors ;  and  then  they  fell  again, 
pushed,  thrust  down,  trampled  upon,  rolling  over  and 
over,  all  weapons  lost,  their  armor  shattered  and  falling 
to  pieces,  and  still  ever  endeavoring  to  rise  again,  to  re- 
cover their  stand,  snatching  from  the  ground  broken 
swords,  stumps  of  lances,  and  even  stones  to  ward  off 
their  discomfit. 

Ettore  above  the  rest,  with  a  loud  voice  entreated  them 
to  give  up  and  to  surrender  themselves ;  but  in  that  up- 
roar he  was  scarcely  heard  ;  or  if  they  heard  him,  they 
dumbly  refused  compliance,  enduring  with  a  stubborn  pa- 
tience those  horrible  blows  ;  and  with  the  madness  of 
despair  they  continued  their  admirable  defence.  Of  the 
four  who  were  on  their  saddles  at  the  beginning  of  this 
last  encounter,  one  had  been  unhorsed,  and  was  fighting 
on  foot,  two  had  their  horses  killed  under  them,  the 
fourth  had  been  surrounded  and  made  prisoner.  It  is 
not  in  our  power  to  convey  an  idea  of  all  the  strange 
complications  of  the  fight,  of  the  desperate  acts  which 
were  done  in  those  last  moments,  the  recollection  of 
which  long  remained  in  the  minds  of  the  spectators  with 
mingled  feelings  of  horror  and  wonder. 

To  give  an  instance,  De  Liaye  was  seen  grasping  with 
both  hands  the  bit  of  Capoccio  Romano,  endeavoring  to 
tear  away  the  bridle ;  the  horse  threw  him  under  his  legs 
and  trode  on  him,  but  the  Frenchman  would  never  let 
go  his  hold,  and  being  thus  dragged  across  the  lists,  was 
presented  to  Signor  Prospero  in  that  plight ;  and  even 
then  it  took  a  great  deal  of  labor,  and  many  arms  (so 
frantic  was  he)  to  make  him  loose  his  hands,  and  to  place 
him»araong  the  prisoners.     At  last  the  Italians  themselves 


342  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

felt  as  if  it  would  be  too  cruel  to  pursue  that  kind  of 
warfare ;  all  joined  in  shouting  with  Fieramosca,  and  for- 
bearing to  strike  any  more,  cried  to  those  who  had  been 
left  in  the  French  ranks :  prisoners  .  .  .  prisoners.  .  .  . 
Even  among  the  people  arose  a  murmur,  and  it  was 
swelling  up,  the  remonstrance  of  the  heralds  being  of  no 
avaU ;  it  broke  out  into  roars,  and  shouts,  and  cries  that 
there  should  be  an  end  to  the  battle,  and  that  the  French 
should  have  their  lives  spared.  Every  barrier  being  sur- 
mounted, the  spectators  had  crowded  on  the  combatants 
whose  lists  were  reduced  to  a  very  narrow  compass ;  some 
shouted,  some  waved  their  hats  and  their  handkerchiefs, 
hoping  to  be  able  to  stop  the  fight ;  and  some  also  appealed 
to  the  judges  and  marshals.  Signor  Prospero  ordering 
the  people  to  make  way,  and  approaching  the  champions, 
raised  his  voice  and  his  truncheon  to  make  the  French- 
men yield ;  even  Bayard,  albeit  he  keenly  felt  the  de- 
feat of  his  party,  convinced  that  any  further  resistance 
would  have  been  useless,  and  thinking  that  it  would  have 
been  an  unpardonable  sin  to  waste  thus  the  blood  and  the 
lives  of  those  brave  men,  came  forward,  and  cried  to  his 
men  to  yield,  and  to  give  themselves  up  as  prisoners. 
But  neither  his  voice,  nor  the  entreaties  of  all  the  by- 
standers had  any  power  over  the  vanquished,  who  scarcely 
looked  like  human  beings,  but  had  more  the  appearance 
of  demons  or  furies  let  loose  upon  earth.  At  last  even 
the  judges  descended  from  their  stand  ;  they  mixed  with 
the  combatants,  ordered  the  trumpets  to  sound,  and  the 
Italians  to  be  proclaimed  conquerors.  The  latter  then 
endeavored  to  withdraw,  but  to  no  avail ;  their  adversa- 
ries, lashed  into  fury  by  their  rage,  grief,  and  wounds, 
went  on,  like  so  many  tigers  crushed  within  the  coils  of 
serpents,  to  harass  their  enemies  as  much  as  possible.  • 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  343 

Diego  Garcia  at  last,  hopeless  of  seeing  an  end  put  to 
that  butchery  by  the  usual  laws  of  the  tournament,  re- 
sorted to  an  expedient  of  his  own,  and  dashing  at  Sacet  de 
Jacet,  just  as  he  was  wrestling  with  Brancaleone,  and 
pretending  to  snatch  the  battle-axe  from  his  hand,  while 
the  latter  seemed  to  be  debating  with  himself  whether 
he  should  bestow  upon  his  head  a  blow  which  would  have 
finished  him,  —  he  seized  him  by  the  shoulders,  and  with 
wonderful  strength  dragged  him  out  of  the  lists  in  spite  of 
himself.  Diego's  example  was  followed  by  many  of  the 
spectators ;  in  less  time  than  we  can  say  it,  they  pounced 
upon  the  French  champions,  and  although  some  were  se- 
verely handled,  still  pushing  and  pulling,  tearing  and 
dragging,  after  a  great  deal  of  exertion  they  succeeded 
in  taking  those  five  men  away  from  the  field ;  and  not- 
withstanding they  offered  a  great  deal  of  resistance,  and 
were  foaming  with  rage,  they  were  at  last  disposed  of 
with  the  rest  under  the  oak  trees. 

Fieramosca's  first  care,  as  soon  as  the  last  embers  of 
the  fight  were  extinguished,  was  to  leap  from  his  horse 
and  run  to  Graiano  d'Asti,  who  lay  motionless  on  the 
place  where  he  had  fallen. 

When  Brancaleone  had  given  the  fatal  blow,  a  sudden 
feeling  of  joy  sprang  up  in  the  generous  heart  of  Fiera- 
mosca.  But  that  feeling  was  immediately  stifled  by  a 
noble  and  virtuous  thought.  He  approached  the  fallen 
knight,  and  ordering  the  people  to  stand  apart,  he  knelt 
by  his  side.  The  blood  was  still  flowing  from  the  gaping 
wound,  but  slow  and  curdled ;  he  lifted  the  head  very 
carefully,  as  if  anxious  to  save  the  life  of  a  most  dear 
friend,  and  succeeded  in  removing  the  casque. 

But  the  battle-axe  had  cleft  the  skull  and  inflicted  a 
wound  three  inches  deep  ;  the  knight  was  dead.     Ettore 


^44  ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA. 

gave  a  sigh  from  his  inmost  heart ;  then  laying  the  head 
of  the  slain  warrior  carefully  down  again,  and  rising  on 
his  feet,  he  turned  to  his  brethren  in  arms,  and  more  par- 
ticularly addressing  Brancaleone,  said  :  — 

"  This  weapon  of  thine,"  and  he  pointed  to  the  battle-axe 
held  in  his  friend's  grasp,  still  dripping  with  blood,  "  has 
this  day  accomplished  a  great  justice.  But  can  we  enjoy 
this  victory  ?  is  not  this  earth  imbrued  with  Italian  blood  ? 
Ah !  might  he  not,  strong  and  valiant  as  he  was  on  the 
battle  field,  have  shed  it  to  his  and  our  glory  against  the 
common  enemy  ?  Then  Graiano's  tomb  would  have  been 
honored  and  glorious  !  his  memory  a  monument  of  pride  ! 
But  now  there  he  lies  in  infamy,  and  the  malediction  on 
the  traitor  against  his  country  weighs  heavy  upon  him." 
.  .  .  After  these  words  they  all  returned  in  silence  to  their 
horses,  a  deep  gloom  veihng  their  countenances.  Graia- 
no's corpse  was  carried  in  the  evening  to  Barletta ;  but 
when  an  attempt  was  made  to  bury  it  in  consecrated 
ground,  the  people,  rising  in  a  mass,  would  not  allow  it 
The  corpse  bearers  carried  it  to  a  pass  by  a  torrent  at 
the  distance  of  two  miles  from  the  town,  dug  a  trench  and 
buried  him.  That  spot  was  afterwards  called  Jlie  Trai- 
tor's Pass. 

Signer  Prospero,  before  leaving  the  camp,  turned  to 
Bayard  and  requested  him  whether  he  was  ready  to  pay 
the  ransom.  Thus  the  bravado  of  La  Motte  was  visited 
upon  Bayard,  who  made  no  reply  ;  and  the  judges  ordered 
that  the  prisoners  should  follow  their  conquerors  to  Bar- 
letta. On  foot,  silent,  covered  with  shame  and  confusion, 
surrounded  by  an  immense  throng  of  peoi^le,  they  were 
followed  by  the  Italians  on  their  horses,  amidst  the  flour- 
ishes of  the  trumpets,  and  the  shouts  of  the  spectators, 
whose  voices  made  the  welkin  ring  with  the  cry:  Viva 
V Italia!   Viva  Culonna! 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  345 

When  the  thirteen  warriors  had  entered  the  citadel, 
and  were  in  the  presence  of  Gonzalo,  who  received  them 
amidst  the  elite  of  his  barons,  they  presented  to  him  the 
twelve  prisoners.  The  great  Captain  bestowed  a  well- 
merited  eulogy  on  the  victors,  and  then  addressed  the 
French  knights  thus  :  — 

"  Be  it  far  from  me  to  offer  insult  to  valorous  men 
in  misfortune.  The  fortune  of  war  lasts  but  one  day, 
and  the  conqueror  of  today  may  be  vanquished  on  the 
morrow.  It  is  not  for  me  to  teach  you  that  you  must 
henceforward  have  respect  for  Italian  valor.  My  words 
would  prove  superfluous  after  the  deeds  of  today. 
But  I  wiU  warn  you  from  this  day  forward  to  revere  and 
honor  valor  and  courage  wherever  it  may  be  found ;  ever 
remembering  that  God  has  not  given  it  in  trust  to  any 
one  nation  exclusively,  but  has  distributed  it  largely 
among  all  men,  and  that  true  courage  is  always  en- 
hanced by  modesty,  and  forever  blighted  and  dishonored 
by  bravado." 

After  these  words  he  dismissed  them ;  they  left  the 
hall,  and  thus  ended  that  glorious  and  memorable  day. 


Let  us  be  sincere.  Those  who  tell  or  write  a  story 
always  entertain  a  little  hope  that  it  will  prove  interest- 
ing, and  that  there  may  always  be  some  one  who  will 
listen  to  it,  or  read  it  to  the  end.  We  have  also  nur- 
tured this  hope  in  a  remote  corner  of  our  heart ;  but 
it  was  like  the  flame  of  a  candle  at  the  mercy  of  the 
wind,  flickering  all  the  time,  —  now  radiant  with  bril- 
liancy, (does  our  reader  smile  ?)  and  then  fluttering  away 
into  so  small  dimensions,  as  to  seem  almost  dying  out ; 
15* 


346  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

but  our  own  self-love  has  endeavored  to  manage  so  well 
that  it  has  not  yet  become  extinguished. 

If  this  selfish  and  waiy  flatterer  has  not  deceived  us,  — 
if  there  has  actually  been  some  reader  endowed  with  so 
much  patience  as  to  accompany  us  all  the  way  to  this 
point,  we  may  flatter  ourselves  that  he  wishes  to  know 
something  more  about  Ettore  Fieramosca ;  and  certainly 
we  shall  gratify  his  curiosity  by  imparting  all  the  infor- 
mation we  have  been  able  to  obtain. 

The  conquerors  and  their  prisoners  left  Gonzalo  and 
repaired  to  the  quarters  of  the  Colonnas,  who  received 
them  and  entei'tained  them  most  generously,  and  gave 
the  Frenchmen  comfortable  lodging  for  the  night.  On 
the  morrow,  the  ransom  having  been  sent  from  the 
French  camp,  they  were  remanded  free,  and  were  es- 
corted out  of  the  gates  of  Barletta  by  many  of  Gon- 
zalo's  troops,  who  paid  to  them  those  marks  of  honor 
which  were  undoubtedly  due  to  their  gallant  defence. 

But  Fieramosca,  afler  leaving  Gonzalo's  presence,  gave 
no  further  thought  to  the  adversaries.  At  last  he  could 
devote  all  his  thoughts  to  himself  and  to  Ginevra.  There- 
fore he  quietly  stole  away  from  his  companions  who  were 
surrounded  and  feasted  by  a  host  of  friends,  and  who 
in  the  frenzy  of  their  victorj'  could  not  pay  much  atten- 
tion to  his  movements.  He  saw  Vittoria  Colonna  in  one 
of  the  piazzas.  She  had  been  present  at  the  reception 
given  by  Gonzalo  to  the  thirteen  warriors,  and  was  then 
returning  to  her  own  apartments.  He  hurried  his  steps, 
and  calling  her  name,  made  her  pause  and  turn  back. 
Vittoria  had  been  informed  of  the  history  of  Fieramosca, 
and  well  she  guessed  what  he  wished  to  know  from  her. 

"O  my  God!  — what  shall  I  say?"  But  she  had 
no  time  to  summon  her  thoughts,  before  Ettore  was  at 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  347 

her  side.  His  armor  was  stained  all  over  with  dust,  and 
it  was  indented  here  and  there  by  the  blows  from  the 
enemy's  weapons.  Only  one  plume,  and  that  drooping, 
was  on  the  helmet ;  of  the  rest  only  the  stumps  remained. 
The  lifted  visor  uncovered  his  handsome  features,  hag- 
gard from  the  labor  of  the  day,  stained  by  perspiration, 
and  beaming,  it  is  true,  with  honest  pride  for  the  obtained 
victory  ;  but  at  the  same  time  betraying  his  great  anxiety 
to  meet  her,  whom,  at  last,  after  Graiano's  death,  he 
might  call  his  own. 

Circumstances  always  exert  great  influence  over  the 
hopes  and  fears  of  a  man's  heart.  The  despondency, 
and  I  might  almost  say  the  despair,  which  Fieramosca 
had  suffered  during  the  night  and  the  morning  before  the 
fight,  thinking  about  the  situation  of  Ginevra,  had  now, 
after  the  shock  and  protracted  labor  of  the  battle,  and 
from  the  ineffable  joy  of  having  merited  the  honors  of 
the  day,  given  place  to  a  most  confident  hope  that  he 
would  find  her  safe  and  sound. 

"  My  lady  ! "  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  trepidation,  caused 
by  the  heavy  beating  of  the  heart,  "may  God  reward 
you,  and  may  He  bless  you.  I  know  all  .  .  .  how 
you  have  received  her,  and  have  been  so  good  to  the 
poor  thing.  .  .  .  Oh !  she  needed  it  ...  !  Lead  me 
to  her,  —  let  us  go  to  her  for  God's  sake  .  .  ." 

Every  word  uttered  by  Ettore  went  through  the  heart 
of  Vittoria  like  a  dagger,  and  she  had  not  the  courage 
to  impart  the  terrible  news.  On  the  contrary  she  put 
on  a  smile,  and  said  :  — 

"  Ginevra  is  again  at  Sant'  Orsola." 

It  was  too  true.  She  had  been  carried  to  the  Mon- 
astery about  one  hour  before  the  warriors  had  returned 
from  the  lists,  and  Fra  Mariano  had  accompanied  the 
corpse,  for  the  purpose  of  burying  her  during  the  niglrt. 


348  ETTORE    FIERAAIOSCA. 

"  What !  in  Sant'  Orsola  ?  How,  so  soon  ?  Then 
she  has  not  been  very  sick  ?     She  is  well,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  she  is  well ! " 

In  the  transport  of  his  joy,  Fieramosca  opened  his 
arms  to  embrace  Vittoria  ;  but  he  recollected  himself,  and 
instead,  he  put  one  knee  on  the  floor,  took  her  hand,  and 
stamped  on  it  kisses  of  gratitude,  which  spoke  more  than 
a  thousand  words. 

Then  he  rose,  almost  beside  himself,  and  started  to 
go  to  Sant'  Orsola,  without  speaking  another  word ;  but 
he  halted  a  moment,  looking  at  his  breast,  and  turned 
back. 

"  See,  Signora,"  he  said  with  a  smile,  and  somewhat 
hesitating,  —  "  see  this  blue  scarf,  it  is  a  gift  from  her.  .  . 
Today  a  cut  from  the  sword,  lodging  on  the  brea-st-plate, 
has  cut  it  in  twain." 

Saying  this  he  undid  the  knot  which  he  had  made 
with  the  two  ends  to  keep  it  together. 

"  I  know  I  venture  too  much,  but,  for  great  mercy, 
would  you  be  pleased  to  mend  it,  so  that  Ginevra  will  not 
see  that  it  is  cut  ?  The  poor  thing  would  take  it  as  a  bad 
omen.  .  .  .  She  might  say :  Why  not  protect  it  with 
the  buckler  ?  .  .  ." 

Most  willingly  did  Vittoria  go  to  her  room  to  pro- 
cure the  needed  implements,  thus  having  an  opportunity 
to  recover  herself  and  to  control  the  deep  emotions  of  her 
heart,  commiserating  the  baseless  confidence  of  Fiera- 
mosca. She  returned  more  assured,  and  began  to 
mend  the  scarf,  keeping  her  head  bent  downward,  that 
he  might  not  read  the  expression  of  her  countenance. 

While  she  was  engaged  at  her  work,  Ettore  remarked 
with  a  smile :  "  You  can  scarcely  distinguish  its  color 
...  It  has  gone  through  many  hardships.  ...  It  has 


ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA.  349 

been  my  companion  during  many  evil  hours.  It  shall 
henceforward  be  the  companion  of  my  happiness.  If 
you  knew  how  many  years  I  have  worn  it !  .  .  .1  have 
saved  it  through  so  many  battles  .  .  .  and  today !  .  .  . 
this  very  day,  when  all  my  trials  will  be  turned  into  joy 
.  .  .  they  have  spoiled  it !  If  I  believed  in  signs,  what 
should  I  think?" 

Vittoria  went  on  sewing  without  uttering  a  syllable. 
In  a  terrible  struggle  between  the  feeling  that  he  ought 
to  know  the  true  state  of  affairs,  and  the  unsurraount- 
able  dread  of  being  obliged  to  pour  so  much  sorrow  into 
his  heart,  she  thought  of  compromising  matters  by  sending 
for  Brancaleone,  and  lay  it  upon  him  to  help  his  friend  in 
that  terrible  trial. 

"A  thousand  thanks  to  you,"  said  Ettore  when  the 
mending  was  finished ;  and  hurrying  down  the  steps,  he 
was  in  the  castle  yard  with  the  speed  of  the  lightning. 
There  was  no  other  person  there  but  Masuccio  holding 
Ettore's  horse,  still  panting  and  foaming  ;  the  head  of  the 
poor  animal  was  hanging  down,  its  eye  was  spiritless,  and 
its  flanks  were  heaving  laboriously. 

"  To  the  stable,  to  the  stable,"  cried  Ettoi'e,  as  he 
dashed  by  his  groom  ;  "  don't  you  know  any  better  ?  .  .  . 
to  keep  a  horse  so  hot  and  sweating  in  the  open 
air !  ...  "  and  off  he  went  towards  the  shore,  as  the 
passage  to  Sant'  Orsola  was  much  shorter  by  water. 

But  no  boat  could  he  obtain  at  the  wharf.  The  vessels 
carrying  the  Spanish  troops  were  anchored  in  the  harbor, 
and  Gonzalo  was  very  anxious  that  they  should  all  be 
landed  before  night.  Every  skiff,  boat,  and  craft  of  any 
kind  in  the  port  had  been  engaged  for  that  purpose. 

Ettore  stamped  the  ground  with  his  foot,  and  exclaimed, 
"  I'll  go  on  horseback  ;  it  is  a  longer  route,  but  be  it  so." 


350  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

He  went  to  the  stable  ;  Masuccio  was  taking  the  bridle 
off  Airone's  neck. 

"  Let  it  be,"  he  said,  and  taking  the  bridle  from 
Masuccio's  hands,  threw  it  over  the  animal's  neck,  leaped 
on  the  saddle,  and  in  a  few  moments  he  was  out  of  the 
city,  following  the  road  which  led  to  the  Monastery  along 
the  sea-shore. 

"  Poor  Airone !  "  he  said,  patting  the  horse's  neck  with 
his  hand,  while  with  the  spur  he  hurried  the  sluggish  trot 
of  the  good  steed,  for  whom  it  was  hard  to  be  driven  from 
the  stable  after  so  much  fatigue ;  "  thou  art  right,  but 
have  patience  a  little  longer,  and  I  will  repay  thee  for  all." 

Night  was  approaching ;  the  sun  had  been  down  for 
half  an  hour.  Fieramosca  faced  the  east ;  behind  him 
the  sky  was  serene,  free  from  any  vapor,  but  immense 
clouds  arose  before  him,  towering  up  in  huge  black  vol- 
umes towards  the  sky,  and  flattened  at  the  bottom  on  a 
line  parallel  with  the  horizon.  Broad  sheets  of  rain' 
were  pouring  down  perpendicularly  on  the  waters,  in 
more  or  less  dense  masses  ;  and  the  summits  of  that  heap 
of  clouds  drifting  towards  the  sky,  still  reflected  the  rays 
of  the  expiring  sun,  and  were  colored  with  a  whitish 
light.  Almost  incessantly  did  the  quivering  glare  of  the 
lightning  flash  through  that  darkness,  and  the  thunder 
rumbled  heavily  from  afar.  The  sea  was  rising  and 
threatened  a  squall ;  it  was  black  in  the  high  waters, 
while  the  crests  of  the  billows  sparkled  with  white  and 
feathery  spray.  The  waves,  gradually  rolling  towards 
the  shore,  ended  in  very  sharp  blades,  green  and  trans- 
parent, advancing  like  a  crystal  wall,  the  top  of  which 
curling  over  fell  with  a  splash,  and  covered  with  foam  the 
dry  gravel  of  tlie  coast. 

However,  the  gloomy  appearance  of  the  weather  could 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  351 

not  at  that  time  mar  in  the  least  the  buoyant  happiness 
of  the  Italian  knight.  With  an  impatient,  restless  eye 
he  spanned  the  distance  separating  him  from  Sant'  Orsola, 
and  the  coast  being  level  and  bare  he  saw  the  building 
most  plainly.  He  imagined  the  pleasure  of  the  first  en- 
counter with  Ginevra ;  he  imagined  how  she  would  come 
to  meet  him  with  that  look  so  full  of  honesty,  and  that 
approach  so  cheering  and  graceful.  He  would  be  the 
first  to  announce  to  her  the  news  of  the  victory  I  —  only 
he  felt  embarrassed  in  finding  the  most  proper  manner 
to  inform  her  that  now  she  was  perfectly  free  to  dis- 
pose of  her  own  hand. 

When  within  two  musket  shots  from  the  tower,  the 
eas'terly  wind  had  drifted  the  storm  nearer  to  Ettore,  who 
had  to  ride  against  it ;  large  drops  of  rain  fell  obliquely 
on  the  youth's  armor,  and  rebounded  in  a  spray  over  the 
armor  ;  they  became  quicker  and  quicker,  and  smaller  and 
smaller.  A  thunderbolt  seemed  to  have  burst  open  one 
of  the  cataracts  of  heaven,  and  the  rain  began  to  descend 
with  great  violence,  drenching  Fieramosca  from  head  to 
foot,  although  he  was  only  a  few  strides  from  the  tower. 
The  gates  had  not  yet  been  closed ;  he  rode  through 
swiftly,  and  in  a  few  moments  he  was  on  the  island  and 
at  the  guests'  lodge.  He  tied  the  horse  to  the  iron  grate 
of  the  window  of  an  outbuilding,  and  dashed  up  to  Gi- 
nevra's  room. 

It  is  useless  to  say  that  it  was  empty.  He  came 
down  again,  and  at  first  he  thought  of  entering  the 
church.  He  knew  that  one  of  its  high  tribunes  was  a 
favorite  spot  with  her,  where  she  resorted  to  pei-forra  her 
devotions  ;  he  entered  it,  but  it  was  empty ;  the  church 
was  empty  also  and  almost  perfectly  dark.  That  part  of 
the  choir  or  absis  that  could  be  seen  was  also  empty ;  still 


352  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

the  sound  of  a  subdued  psalmody,  coming  as  it  were  from 
underground,  reached  his  ear.  He  went  forward,  and 
saw  flickering  on  the  ceiling  of  the  dome,  a  faint  light 
issuing  from  the  grated  opening,  before  the  high  altar, 
and  communicating  with  the  chapel  underneath  ;  as  he 
drew  near,  he  heard  a  mournful  singing  of  psalms  in  the 
little  chapel  below.  He  turned  around  the  altar,  and 
went  down.  The  clatter  of  his  arms,  of  his  spurs,  and 
of  the  scabbard  rebounding  on  the  steps,  attracted  the 
attention  of  those  who  stood  in  a  circle  around  the  centre 
of  the  chapel ;  they  opened  the  way  foi'  the  warrior.  Et- 
tore  found  himself  by  the  bier  which  he  had  seen  that 
morning  in  the  vestry  of  San  Dominico ;  before  him,  by 
the  altar,  stood  the  hallowed  person  of  Fra  Mariano,  with 
the  black  stole  on  his  breast,  his  right  hand  raised,  and 
extended  in  the  act  of  sprinkling  the  blessed  water ;  in  the 
midst,  an  open  tomb ;  on  one  side  two  men  holding  up- 
right the  stone ;  on  the  other  side  Zorais,  desperately 
crying  on  her  knees,  bent  over  Ginevra's  corpse,  was 
arranging  the  shroud  around  the  head,  and  placing  a 
wreath  of  white  roses  over  that  pale  bi-ovv. 

Ettore  reached  the  brink  of  the  sepulchre,  saw  every 
thing,  but  remained  motionless,  spoke  not  a  word,  made 
no  sign,  did  not  move  even  an  eyelid.  His  face  began 
to  sink  ;  it  became  as  pale  as  death  ;  a  convulsive  quiver 
seized  his  lips,  and  a  cold  perspiration  in  large  drops 
trickled  down  from  his  brow. 

Zorais  sobbed  louder,  and  Fra  Mariano,  with  a  troubled, 
unsteady  voice,  showing  how  sadly  his  heart  was  lacer- 
ated at  the  sight  of  that  most  unhappy  youth,  made  an 
effort  to  say :  — 

"  She  fled  to  heaven  yesterday.  God  has  now  made 
her  a  great  deal  happier  than  if  she  had  remained  with 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  353 

But  even  the  good  priest  was  choking  with  tears,  and 
said  no  more. 

The  stone  was  slowly  lowered  on  the  crowbars,  met 
with  the  bezels  of  the  tomb,  it  fell,  and  there  it  lay. 

Ettore  was  still  motionless.  Fra  Mariano  approached 
him,  took  him  by  the  hand,  which  was  given  without 
resistance,  embraced  him,  turned  him  around  to  lead  him 
away  from  that  place,  and  Ettore  obeyed.  They  as- 
cended the  steps,  and  then  went  out  of  the  church ;  the 
lightning  still  flashed,  the  thunder  still  rumbled,  the  rain 
was  falling  in  torrents.  When  they  had  reached  the 
guests'  quarters,  Fieramosca  disentangled  himself  from  the 
arms  of  the  good  monk ;  and  before  the  latter  could  even 
utter  a  word,  the  unfortunate  knight  was  already  on  his 
saddle,  bending  over  the  horse,  dashing  the  spurs  into  his 
flanks,  and  the  tramp  of  a  full  gallop  was  heard  under  the 
sombre  entry  of  the  tower. 

Neither  Fieramosca's  friends,  nor  any  person  of  those 
times,  ever  saw  him  after  that  day,  alive  or  dead. 

Various  were  the  surmises  as  to  his  end,  but  all  vague 
and  groundless.  Only  one  had  some  semblance  of  truth, 
and  it  originated  thus  :  — 

Some  poor  mountaineers  of  Mount  Gargano,  who  were 
at  work  making  coal,  related  to  some  peasants  —  and  thus 
the  stoiy  went  from  mouth  to  mouth,  until  it  reached 
even  Barletta,  long  after  the  Spanish  camp  had  been 
raised  —  how,  on  a  certain  very  stormy  night,  they  had 
seen  the  strange  apparition  of  a  knight,  armed  from  head 
to  foot,  riding  his  horse  on  the  top  of  inaccessible  rocks, 
which  formed  the  brink  of  a  cliff  perpendicularly  rising 
from  the  sea.  At  first  only  a  few  spoke  of  it,  then  many 
wei'e  told  of  the  secret,  until  at  last  all  believed  that  it 
was  a  supernatural  vision  which  had  been  seen. 


354  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

But  when  Fra  Mariano  heard  of  it,  and  compared 
dates,  he  believed  that  Ettore,  being  out  of  his  mind, 
had  pushed  his  horse  into  very  dangerous  places,  and  that 
at  last  both  horse  and  rider  fell  into  some  unknown  abyss, 
or  perhaps  into  the  sea. 

In  1616,  a  large  tract  of  rocks  under  the  Gargano 
became  dry,  and  a  fisherman  discovered  between  two 
huge  rocks  a  heap  of  irons  half  corroded  by  the  action 
of  salt  water  and  rust,  and  rumaging  among  them,  he 
found  some  human  bones  and  the  carcass  of  a  horse. 

The  reader  can  draw  his  own  conclusions.  Our  story 
is  ended. 


It  would  be  vain  and  ridiculous  to  believe  that  this 
story  will  be  well  received  on  our  own  merits ;  but  we 
think  that  the  Italians  will  accept  with  kind  indulgence 
the  good  will  of  one  who  has  taken  some  pains  in  record- 
ing an  exploit  which  honors  them  so  much.  To  display 
the  valor  of  the  conquerors  in  bolder  relief,  we  did  not  feel 
at  liberty  to  feign  circumstances  which  might  aggravate 
the  case  of  the  vanquished.  The  histories  of  Giovio, 
Guicciardini  and  others,  would  lay  our  dishonesty  open. 
It  was  not  our  aim  to  offer  a  reproach  to  French  valor, 
which  we  are  among  the  foremost  to  acknowledge 
and  honor.  We  only  aimed  at  making  Italian  valor 
known ;  and  in  this,  history  amply  bears  us  out.  On 
this  subject  let  us  be  allowed  to  protest  against  the 
base  contentions,  which  frequently  lead  men  of  different 
nations  to  cast  into  each  other's  faces,  —  often  summon- 
ing help  from  falsehood,  —  their  shame  and  their  faults  ; 
on  the  contrary,  we  hold  it  as  a  duty  of  those  who  love 


ETTORE   FIERAMOSCA.  355 

human  nature,  to  trample  under  foot,  and  smother  those 
sparks  of  hatred,  unfortunately  too  lasting  and  suicidal, 
thereby  following  the  law  of  love  and  justice  proclaimed 
in  the  gospel. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  those  enmities  more  foolish, 
— aye,  more  sacrilegious,  which  have  sometimes  lasted  so 
long  between  parties  of  the  same  nation  ?  Unfortunately 
Italy  cannot  blot  out  from  her  national  escutcheon  the 
stain  of  this  crime  and  shame  ;  although  the  whole  world 
will  allow  to  her  the  primacy  of  merit  and  glory  in  other 
respects.  Although  those  animosities  have  always  been, 
and  are  now  more  than  ever,  deplored  and  accursed, 
still  the  blame  is  very  far  from  filling  the  measure  of  the 
guilt. 

It  is  then  our  opinion  that  whoever  undertakes  to 
record  some  of  those  painful  events  with  which  our  his- 
tories are  unhappily  teeming,  may  indeed  fulfil  a  great 
duty,  imperfectly,  it  is  true,  but  not  unprofitably  or  alto- 
gether uselessly.  And  moreover  it  seems  to  us  that  this 
verdict  of  blame  must  appear  more  sincere  and  more 
weighty  when  it  bears  on  one's  natal  place ;  otherwise 
the  judgment  might  appear  partial,  and  not  altogether 
free  from  that  international  jealousy  which  it  is  the  pur- 
pose of  the  writer  to  condemn.  Therefore,  in  our  opinion, 
none  could  be  more  in  duty  bound  to  let  a  solemn  record 
of  condemnation  be  placed  against  the  memory  of  Grai- 
ano  d'Asti,  than  he  who  shares  with  him  a  common  birth- 
place in  Piedmont. 

It  is  true,  however,  that  Napione  has  long  ago  expressed 
the  opinion  of  the  Piedmontese  as  regards  that  traitor. 
"  That  countrymen  of  ours  from  Asti,  who  in  the  famous 
Passage-at-Ai'ms  of  Quadrato,  having  taken  up  arms 
with  the  French  against  the  Italians,  not  only  shared 


356  ETTORE  FIERAMOSCA. 

with  them  the  ignominy  of  a  defeat,  but,  having  fallen  in 
the  struggle,  it  was  the  opinion  of  all  at  the  time,  that 
he  had  been  deservedly  punished  for  his  folly,  because  he 
had  dared  to  take  up  arms  against  his  country  in  favor 
of  a  strange  nation."  * 

But  be  it  said  for  our  comfort,  that  in  this  day,  let 
Italy  be  searched  from  end  to  end,  not  a  single  one 
could  be  found,  who  would  follow  the  example  of  that 
wretch. 

*  Napione,  on  the  Use  and  Beauties  of  the  Italian  Language.    Book 
1,  ch.  16. 


THE    END. 


\ 


^ 


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